


Trigger Effect

by Sonny



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post Season 5, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2006-08-04
Updated: 2006-08-04
Packaged: 2017-10-14 02:09:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 69,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/144185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonny/pseuds/Sonny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SEQUEL to LOSE MY WAY ; Brian and Michael are now a "couple", but Brian won't admit it (this follows Completely Complete and Lose My Way : but it can be a "standalone", as well) ; What will it take to make Brian cave in to Michael? Or does Michael even need to worry anymore?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

Michael heard the noises even before he fully awoke. He hadn't actually been asleep as much as he had his eyelids resting closed, patiently waiting.

Waiting for what? Nah... more like _whom_.

Through the open bedroom door, Michael picked up the usual sounds. Jangling keys, creak of the front door... door shutting, security code set, keys left tinkling on the wall hook. The thick leather jacket sliding off, crisp and tight, as it was thrown over the back of the sofa. The resounding _clip-clap_ of $900 designer label, square-toed half-boots as they trekked from the living room through the dining room. Intense kitchen light was thrown on, followed by the loud explicative from the man unprepared for such brightness this late at night.

Michael puffed out a chuckle, stretching an arm to caress the empty space beside him. Normally ,it was full of warm, heated flesh, always smelling of high-priced liquor, tobacco, the faded musky scent of cologne and bodily sweat.

Brian... _plain and simple_. Michael wouldn't have it any other way.

He stared at the ceiling, laying crossways on the King-sized mattress. He was savoring the aloneness, contemplating what could possibly come next, filling up his growing loneliness.

Soon he was certain the refrigerator would be thrown open, glass bottles clanging and the retreat of those pricey shoes. Lights would be turned off, locks would be set and rechecked, ending with the soft _clump-clump_ of the man coming upstairs.

Michael couldn't hide the foolish grinning. So much so, he nearly cracked up laughing at his own crazy thoughts. His life was too good, after being such crap. But the smile didn't last long.

Tonight, it seemed, was turning out different than other nights.

No lights turned off. No locks rechecked. Not even the sudden _clump-clump_ up the stairs.

Michael held his breath, closed his eyes tighter. He was listening resiliently to what might be going on. His hand smoothed down his naked torso, rubbing over his flat belly and stopping at the elastic waistband of the shorts he wore to bed.

At hearing the scrape of chair legs on the floor, the thump of a bottle on the table top and the heavy sigh of someone in pure exhaustion, taking a seat for some much needed rest and relaxation, Michael rolled over on his right side. He reached out to grab a random pillow to squish under his cheek. He was already snuggling his face in the plush material when he discovered the lingering scent of Brian on the surface.

That triggered off a chain reaction of bodily responses. One of which made him groan from the ache, chest to groin, inside then out. Now that his body had become accustomed to having Brian in ways he used to only dream of... the craving was always there, needing to be fulfilled. Didn't matter what he or Brian did. At times, it was as simple as a thought or a word, even a smell that would turn out to be Michael's "trigger effect". Without even one shred of doubt, he resolved in his mind that _something_ was bothering Brian.

Could be some minuscule mishap or a moment when Brian snapped and realized he didn't really want any of _this_. Any of whatever was being offered to him. Not the house. Not raising Jenny. Not the new relationship with Michael. And, surely, not what all of them entailed.

 _The Life_

 

. The life hounding Brian Kinney since his childhood. The prison cell of monogamous matrimony. Well, just monogamy, in general.

Fundamentally, the number one killer of any great relationship going stale. And quite a higher mark in gay men's relationships.

But, oddly, Michael knew that couldn't be the case.

Why was he so sure? Well, because Brian would have gotten rid of him a long time ago. His patience wore thin kind of quick. It could be that Brian had remained for the friendship and sex, but Michael knew Brian would never sink that low in desperation. The pure torture would have been put to rest as soon as it had started.

So this had to be _something else_. A deeper psychological cut that Michael might be able to tap into, but hadn't quite figured out how to heal. The scar unreachable, untouchable.

In the last few weeks, Michael had known Brian allowed him back in. Not only in his life, in his body and into his head, but most difficult still became his heart. For years, Brian had continually locked his emotions away from being open and vulnerable. Michael was certainly aware Brian liked control and that even in a submissive role he could have control whenever he wanted. The difference being in his bed partner, his life companion.

A tough, strong Brian turned Michael on more than the weakened, falling apart one. He hated having sex in those moments. When it was clear Brian needed his strength, more than his own. Michael felt that even when Brian was the one to initiate sex and penetrate him, entering his very soul… Michael couldn't help sense he was, in some odd way, violating Brian. Stripping him bare and letting the minutes go by defenseless, a delicate heart unprotected, without saying one word. At times holding Brian until he calmed down, falling into restless slumber. Normally by morning, everything was forgotten or worse... Brian would be on the defensive, prepared to verbally assault Michael should he use what he had to his advantage.

To Brian's shock, Michael _never_ did. Brian was always off the hook, allowed to be who and what he was, with no explanations needed. The only thing Michael requested of him, if he wanted to sleep in their bed, was that he always try to come home, whatever the time.

Michael wasn't a "pussy" when it came to Brian, he didn't whine or cling. He had continued to do what he promised Brian. He gave him room to breathe. Never even laid a million set of ground rules nor had huge expectations. Michael took each day as it began, thankful to see Brian seem to flourish. He would come to bed, falling asleep at Michael's side without much prodding or tempting.

Brian was here because... _he wanted to be_.

Michael never even officially asked Brian to move in. Brian was simply there and he never left. Michael had gone to work early, decided to come home for lunch and found the house unsecured and unlocked. He almost had a coronary until he discovered Brian in the backyard, busy doing what would constitute as laundry and, comically, building stuff.

And not simply any old thing, but items Michael had bought intending to make for the house, asking for Ben's help. Ben never seemed to have the time to bother, always working or writing, too preoccupied to do the task. Some things had been sitting around, collecting dust in the little gardening shed. Michael had intended to do them himself, but some things in his life had taken over, needing his attention.

Having no idea Brian was even construction-worthy, Michael was stunned. On a whim, Brian had left work early and took the rest of the day off. Apparently, he had been planning this day for quite some time.

Michael smiled sweetly at the memory. He opened his eyes, blinking, staring at the gorgeous wardrobe closet that had appeared from that very day of Brian's building duties. It was the first piece of furniture Brian had put together for the new master suite. It wasn't missing any pieces and actually looked better than the store-bought furniture.

Brian hadn't even squirmed at the idea of Michael delving into what he had been planning with his re-decoration project for their bedroom. Michael had come up with his own possibilities and ideas, long-ago. He listened to Brian's suggestions, recalling the certain style and flare of Brian's loft bedroom, then merged them. Easy to say, they learned their thoughts were similar enough to satisfy them both.

Michael was consistently amazed with Brian's grace of allowing life together to unfold and never making a bigger stink about the little things that normally tore couples apart. He had figured Brian would find any excuse to leave, but he never did. He kept returning home every single night.

The large doors to the wardrobe closet were slightly open, showing Brian's quick dash this evening to change for Babylon. Tonight had been his night to play part owner/club manager. The next two were left to Ted.

Michael glanced at the mismatched blend of he and Brian's clothes, marveling at how truly vocal the view was to him. The polyester/silk blend trousers with the well-washed and worn jeans. The cheap superhero t-shirts with the $200 rayon, sometimes sleeveless, button-down shirts.

Twenty-six days and counting. Well, not really. It was only when Michael looked at the calendar or his watch and "did the math" when he actually figured out how much time had passed. The time passing without Brian running away, kicking and screaming, toward the loft and his old gay bachelor days.

Michael knew the probability of Brian remaining anywhere, with any one person was a shot in the dark. A week, tops. If he had bragged to anybody, he knew the odds would have been slimmer.

Not that this type of information was something Michael wanted to keep private. He was only thinking about not ruining a good thing. Boasting or spilling the beans would add needless aggravation, people butting in where they weren't wanted. The added advice, from loving family and friends, would simply cause them to be pulled apart on different sides, once again.

Without even agreeing, Michael and Brian had let everyone in their lives find out of their own free will. If they asked, feigned interest with no sly cuts or innuendos toward either of them, then Brian and Michael felt comfortable exposing their new relationship and the blatant fact that they were coming very close to living together.

It had been fun a couple of times, playing their old song-n-dance for everyones' benefit to feel that they weren't too out of their typical characters. They didn't want to throw a monkey wrench in the mix that would certainly cause too much speculation. The best moments were when Brian ended their morning or lunch "g'byes" with a soul shattering kiss that rocked Michael to the bone. A few dazed and confused eyes usually stared for awhile until the subject of the discussion was changed. Neither Brian nor Michael spoke further about the misstep of their… uh, _close friendship_.

The scent of snuggling into Brian's pillow, and curling into his own needful body, wasn't assuaging a thing inside Michael.

Brian, obviously, wasn't coming up to bed, so Michael decided to cave in. They would have their usual late night bedroom chat downstairs, where normally they would be naked, legs tangled, both completely exhausted from a cluster of intense orgasms on the bed. One of them would be on their back, the other turned on their side and elbow bent to hold the head up. Pretty soon fast asleep, enjoying the essence of each other and the aftermath of sex and good conversation. By early morning, they would be cuddled together, almost clinging to each other from fears in their dreams.

Tonight was going to be at the dining room table, fully-clothed and formal. This discussion was going to be _mega-ultra-super_ serious.

Michael had always been prepared for this day, never knowing when it might actually happen. He had high hopes it wasn't too drastic a change to their lives. The closer they were becoming, the more Michael realized how right they were for each other.

Brian was just finding this out, Michael had known all along. Before this very moment, Michael would have given this idea about a 40-60% shot (40% being in _**his**_ favor and Brian not leaving him for something better ; 60% for the "shit" hitting the fan and all Hell breaking lose ; The ceiling caving in on his life and nothing mattering except making sure Jenny never made the same mistakes he did in love and relationships).

 _Now?_

 

Now Michael could confidently say his odds were flipped. If anything, the "good" jumped 15% more. The end result being... a clear cut 75-25% shot.

Michael wasn't being egotistical in the least. All he knew, was 100% sure of, Brian was different, changed for the better. Still the same Brian Kinney at times, but mellowed. No fear, not afraid of change... and _weird_ change at that. Weird change that would have made the Old Brian lash out in anger, running for quick cover, pushing Michael away further and further.

It was at these times Michael saw Brian seeming to, somewhat, beg him for more. Not necessarily the lack of closeness. No. They would forever have that never-ending connection. What Brian was looking for in the "more" category was the assurance that he was behaving. Even when he might not be so bad, Brian didn't want Michael to turn tail and skip on back to Ben or someone better. Brian wanted to be certain that the life they were building together was solid and wouldn't slip from under his firmly planted feet.

Slinging on a long-sleeved t-shirt, Red Cape Comics logo running down the arms and a collage of superheroes on the front like a class reunion picture, Michael climbed out of bed, trudging along the hall and taking a leisurely stroll down the stairs. Each step allowed him to view more of Brian. Until the last four steps as he let out a shy grin to see the handsome face buried in those sinewy forearms. Black mid-biceps short sleeves accenting the pale doe-soft skin.

Michael eyed the set of sweating beer bottle and steaming coffee mug, which he knew was actually hot chocolate purposefully made for him. Caffeine this late at night would keep Michael up for hours. He loved that Brian had locked away that nugget of information for a time when he would need it.

Michael circled the table, coming up behind Brian. As his arms tucked and bent about Brian's neck, he leaned down to press a chaste, friendly kiss to Brian's hairline. He rested his face on the hair, feeling the moisture of body perspiration and stale smoke of Babylon. He could still detect the expensive shampoo and hair pomade as he released Brian, drifting away to take an empty seat.

The cup and saucer were pushed closer to where Michael chose to sit. As he reached for the spoon to stir, Brian's fingers brushed half of his, using their "touch" as a small button of communication.

It was a normal tender, unspoken action used to tell Michael quite a few things :  
 **  
"I missed you tonight. Babylon wasn't the same without you."**

 **"We have to talk, but it isn't crazy, scary shit. You and I are okay."**

 **"I love you. I would never intentionally hurt you. Never forget that."**

Michael smiled into the first sip of his hot chocolate. "How was this evening?" He already knew the answer. He wanted Brian assured that they could talk about anything and everything, without fear of repercussions.

Brian lifted his head, arms still stretched and crossed over the table surface. He wiped the exhaustion from his face, rubbing the heel of one hand over an eye. "Oh... you know... the usual bore-fest." He shook his head, rolling his eyes. Like Babylon could ever amount to a _boring_ night. He only wanted to convey to Michael that he didn't miss much. "I had to, of course, pick up Schmidt's slack. Take care of the business he's been lax in informing me about. Until I cracked the books open to find a reality I might not be prepared to face."

"What is it _this time_?" Michael knew Brian was pulling his leg. Things ran smoother with Ted in charge. Brian was simply talking bullshit to avoid the real issues.

"Possible embezzlement."

Michael paused upon another sip, recalling Ted's incident with some money he had mis-purposed for Gus in Melanie and Lindsay's name. Brian's teasing often took a drastic turn sometimes. "Seriously?" He decided to play along, pretty sure there was no truth to the claim. " _Wow..._ how much?"

" **$30,000**."

Brian came up with the number so quickly, Michael feigned some true shock.

But Brian's cool demeanor didn't last for long. Michael's bed hair and creased face were killing his "buzz". Michael was way too adorable to kid around with for too long. Brian had lost his ability to joke, like he used to. "But he's cheeky. He's actually hiding it _in_ the accounts. The club is **$30,000** in the _good_. Schmidt's probably waiting until the moment I turn my back and he runs for the Cayman Islands with his new bride. Since he needs somewhere to go for a decent honeymoon." He waggled his finger, half-grin on his lips. "I know him, your so-called friend. He'll wait for the day he can have me bent over the table and fuck me in the ass... taking all my hard-earned cash." He couldn't look at Michael any longer, without letting his guard slip. "He'll steal everything, right under my nose, running away with his full-time twink, hibernating in the Alps for a few months. He'll let the dust settle before he returns, after schmoozing with those other Switzerland-ian crooks-n-thieves, burying my money so I can't ever find it."

"So, you're actually in the 'black' for thirty thou, not the 'red'?" Michael tried hard to picture this very scenario coming to fruition without wanting to crack-up laughing. Brian had lost him at Ted " _fuckin' him in the ass_ ". "And people think **I** have the active imagination in this relationship." He caught Brian's sudden body shiver from the wording of that sentence. He looked... tickled by the mere mention of their budding couple-ness. "You know this... _how??_ " He was curious to figure out Brian's angle.

"This." Brian nodded his head toward the center of the table.

" _'THIS'?_ " Michael furrowed his brow, not having caught Brian's quiet gesture to the "this" in question. Brian had truly outdone himself with the hot chocolate tonight. "What _this_?" Michael began to wonder if the good-tasting cocoa wasn't some scheme to smooth a path. He was determined to find a method to Brian's madness.

"That." Brian was now pointing directly to the offending, inanimate object.

Michael lifted his eyes to where Brian had motioned toward. An innocent, engraved card tucked within the folded lip of a matching envelope. Brian had it resting in between the napkin holder and the salt shaker. Michael turned his head slightly to see what had gotten Brian in such a quandary. _Oh… that…_ He quickly recognized the item.

“I'm not _really_ upset.” Brian cleared his throat, throwing a flip of his hand in the air. "And I'm not assuming anything, but... _were you ever gonna tell me?_ "

"Why?" Michael raised one eyebrow. "So you can ruin the day for both of them?" He stated the words clearly, pulling no punches.

Brian was a little taken aback, but understood why Michael used that tone with those exact words. What Michael didn't know was the changing relationship between he and Ted, since their own friendship had hit a major road block. "Funny thing... Ted brought it to the office to give to me. He said he didn't know if you'd get the opportunity to tell me." He crossed his arms on the table, causing his muscles to expand and shape. “Or that you may not even bother.”

Michael chuckled, rubbing his palms together. "Look, Brian... I was only doing what I was being asked to do. I, seriously, wasn't sure you'd be that interested." He shrugged, then pushed his mug away, crossing his own arms. "I apologize if your feelings were hurt."

Brian's brow wrinkled at the first comment. "What do you mean... ' _doing what you were asked_ '?"

"I mean it exactly how it sounds. Here..." Michael got up from his chair. "... let me _show_ you what I mean." He went to find the old roll-top desk he sat at to pay bills. He found what he needed in the slot he had placed the note in one week ago, envelope included. He brought everything back to the table. "Read it... and weep." He slid the whole package toward Brian.

Brian took over the pass, taking his time. "It's _not_ that I don't trust you. I thought--" He shook his head and wondered what he was attempting to say, what he was thinking right this moment. All that had flourished in his head today and tonight, everything seemed concrete, not murky like it was now.

Michael covered a hand over Brian's forearm, smoothing the soft skin and fine hairs. "Hey... I'm okay. By all means, get frustrated. I understand. Believe me, if this kinda stuff bothered me as much as you think it does, I'd have been gone a long time ago. I knew it was odd that Ted made this request in the first place, but I was certain he had it under control."

Brian glanced up at Michael, periodically, as he read through everything inside the envelope. The contents were similar to his own invitation, except the tiny, yet informative note handwritten by Ted, himself. It was exactly what Michael had mentioned to him.

 **  
"Michael,**

 ****

 **Try not to let the cat out of the bag too soon. I need some time to think about whether it's a good thing Brian knows or not. If I chose to tell him, I will do it when I want him to know. If you happen to let it slip, in passing, no harm. I know it won't be easy for you to hold this kind of information in, but I'll need the extra time to have the best opportunity to learn how to handle Brian properly.**

 **Ted"**

  
"Fuck." Brian soothed a hand down his face, feeling embarrassed for doubting Michael's honest sincerity. "I had no idea I was _that_ difficult to _deal with_ that I had to be _handled properly_."

Michael drank his tepid hot chocolate, savoring the delicious richness. "Look, even when we think things are running smoothly, we can't help reverting back to our old ways, our doubts, reactions and responses. Ted's instinct is to think you'll hate anything he does, on sight, no matter how important it is to him, or Blake. This is some pretty serious business for him. He just doesn't need anything to kill the momentum. Not that you would intentionally ruin his life, but that you might be some kind of downer for his impending happiness. Your natural cynicism, possibly reverting back to your attitude on gay men marrying like 'straight people'. Or the run of bad luck Ted's had in the dating scene... and with men, in general."

"Yeah..." Brian's tone sounded small, under his throat. "... I suppose that could be reasonable." He pushed his chair back, carrying the beer bottle, two fingered about the long neck, with him into the shadowed living room. Darkness always gave him a certain spectrum of safety, the calm quiet of sanity.

Michael heard the tell-tale signs of bruised emotions, of never being able to say "I'm sorry" to the way some people felt they had been treated years ago. _Damn!_ He should have stuck with his first instinct to go ahead, tell Brian anyway, despite Ted's disclaimer.

Even though Ted had grown closer to Brian than Michael could ever believe, there was still residual hurt feelings leftover. Ted thought Brian had remained set in his ways, possibly able to ruin this great relationship with Blake. Michael was the only one who knew Brian was drastically, yet subtly, different these days. He finished up his drink, knowing what he had to do right now. Follow Brian. The topic, tonight, wasn't a dead issue.

Michael trailed a few steps behind Brian. He found him tumbling easily to spread out, lengthwise, on the plush sofa cushions. Beer bottle was placed on the floor, nearby. A dramatic arm curved over his head to block out whatever moonlight peeked through the window curtains.

Michael played it safe, lifting Brian's feet and seating himself at one end of the sofa. He slid off the calf-length boots, setting them on the area rug. Next came the socks, followed by a slow, methodical foot massage. The pads of Michael's thumbs applying pressure to the center of the large feet.

Brian attempted to chat through inner moans and groans. For the first time not realizing how much stress ended up falling into the bottom of his feet. "I, uh... _Jeeee-sus, yeah... right... there..._ " He made a pained face at the relief. "I, uh..." He chuckled at being a little tongue-tied. "... feel the need to apologize... _shit..._ "

Michael raised a curious eyebrow, finding that statement too interesting to pass by. " _Oh? Why?_ "

Brian lifted his arm, looking at Michael under the shade of his bent elbow. "I thought maybe it was you. You, not trusting me." He shrugged at his simplemindedness. “Maybe a bit ashamed.” He didn't know how to explain why he had felt that way. Probably for quite awhile since they'd begun this new aspect of their relationship.

Didn't take long for Michael to figure out Brian's fear. "You thought I _purposefully_ kept you in the dark, because I didn't want to be seen with you? I'm guessing as your date. Like a, uh, boyfriend-thing? In public?"

“In my head, you were the Bad Guy. Things seemed clear cut and full proof.” Rolling his eyes and re-covering his face in shame, Brian sighed heavily. "Now, as you're saying it out loud, vocalizing my own thoughts, I sound like a totally lame asshole."

"Residuals, honey." Michael comforted Brian as he spoke, using his "mothering" tone. "They'll diminish the longer we're together like this." He was working his way up under the cuff of the pants, around the thin calf and long muscles. It made his mouth water to feel the heat and softness of the skin under his hands.

Brian couldn't look away from Michael. "You really _wanted_ to take me?"

"Be seen with you?" Michael smiled, winked and finished his statement. "Yes... very much so."

"Shit. I _am_ an idiot." Brian declared on another long, heavy sigh. He was inwardly grinning at hearing Michael's calm assurance.

"No. You're actually getting adorable, in your old-geezer crankiness."

Sliding up onto his elbows, Brian raised his torso to see Michael better. "Say those words again, in accordance with my name... and I might pinch a nipple." His gentle threat seemed serious.

"Brian, you've waited too long to figure out ways to punish and torment me." Michael decided to move his body, slinking up Brian's frame. Perhaps giving the slight illusion of laying on top of him. "I might begin to see that kind of action as 'foreplay'."

Brian squinted his eyes on Michael's approaching face and body over him. "Then say those words again and I won't bother to _pinch... twist, suck, flick, bite, lick, blow on..._ " Before he could complete the grocery list of nipple atrocities, Michael silenced him with a sudden kiss, deepened and intentionally forceful to throw Brian off his guilty thoughts.

Michael loved what he could do to Brian in one simple mesh of lips. Once a tight, stressed piece of bone, muscle and flesh... now a loose, relaxed and pliable form of radiating warmth.

Brian let Michael sink into him. Or did he simply allow his own body to absorb Michael, like always? Either way, Michael felt needed. Brian wasn't able to be comforted unless Michael was eased and that alone was good to know. He seemed to crave this time together.

Michael broke away, laughing. "No... you know what's funny? I thought _you_ weren't ready to announce _us_. I haven't told _anyone_... _anything_."

"Neither have I." Brian reached up a hand to comb through Michael's dark locks, almost sure he deciphered a "purr" in Michael's throat. His most favorite part was the knee drawing up, between his thighs. He caught the action with the tightening of his legs. He never realized slow, conversational foreplay could be such a turn-on. He had some idea it was something to do with his ever-evolving attraction to Michael, coupled with the deep, enriching affection and love. Could also be that Michael was turning out to be, quite possibly, the best repeat sex partner Brian had ever had. Possibly the greatest life partner too. He wasn't going to boast, in case it was a fluke.

"Were you, also, simply letting people find out on their own?" Michael leaned high on the back of the couch.

"Yeah."

"Waiting to see if anyone cared, got suspicious and asked you pertinent questions?"

"Yup."

"Hasn't happened, has it?"

"Nope."

"Well... that's kinda discouraging." Michael turned his face away, resting his body on Brian's, falling into the crease of the back cushions and Brian's side. "Have we lost our interesting quotient? Have we become complacent in being unique and original?"

"No." Brian emphatically shook his head to decline in response. "No... not really."

"How so?" Michael tilted his head in an inquiring manner.

Brian reached up to smooth the back of his hand down Michael's cheek, adoring the way the dark head leaned into the mere touch. "Here's how I see it... we've, apparently, been this way for years in front of everyone. We haven't bothered to explain ourselves, defying odds that we'd be separated because we're opposites. We look... _dare I say it_ , normal. Like every other day they've seen us together. For them to really notice or take a smidge of interest, we're either gonna have to tell them... or do something pretty spectacular to open their eyes in curiosity."

" _Like what_?" Michael was desperate to know exactly what Brian considered "spectacular".

Brian shrugged one shoulder. "I don't really know… or care." He did know one thing, he wasn't about to let anyone blunder their way into what he had with Michael, at this point. It was going better than _he_ had even hoped.

"Yes you do."

"I won't argue about this while I've got you in my arms." Brian wrapped an arm about Michael to hug him close, squeezing him affectionately.

"Agreed." Michael quickly pecked Brian's cheek, then curled into the warmth under him.

"Did you call your Mom to check on Jenny today?" Brian knew how much of a worrywart Michael was when Jenny wasn't with him. Much more so when Debbie had Jenny in her keeping, no telling what could be happening.

"Once... maybe. I don't know. I almost called twice, but I got sidetracked with the interviews I had today."

"You know I was joking when I said you needed to find yourself an 'acting' manager for Red Cape. I know you've had some trouble finding permanent employees just for your part-time positions."

"No. You were right. I do need to think about finding someone who can run this store if I should need to leave for a few weeks. I always had someone to fall back on, but--meh." Michael didn't even want to mention the two men who were missing in their lives that had helped him out in the store, Uncle Vic and Justin.

Brian knew which two people Michael had meant. "Are you going to be okay?"

" _With what?_ " Michael raised a curious eyebrow, even though Brian couldn't see it.

"Jenny's return home." Brian realized too late he had said something wrong. "To Toronto."

Michael tucked his face into Brian's chest, his hand gripping the silky material of the shirt. "This is her _home_." He stated strongly, his voice steady.

"You know what I mean." Brian reached up a hand to brush through Michael's hair at the back of his head.

"Yes, I _do_ know what you mean. And you don't need to remind me how much time I don't have left."

"Michael..." Brian paused, trying to find the right tone to keep Michael from being mad at him for reminding him of what was going to happen at the end of this week. "... you've had her almost a month. She needs to go back to start school."

"Jenny can start school here."

“As much as I hate admitting this, Jenny needs to go back to her home in Toronto.” Brian secured both arms about Michael's body. "You knew it wasn't a done deal to begin with. Mel gave you the time you needed to make sure Jenny could cope on her own, away from you."

"You think she'll be okay?"

"I _know_ she will. She's a trooper. She's your daughter, Michael, have some faith in her."

"Oh, I have no doubts she'll do great. It's me I'm worried about... and Jenny's penchant for worrying that I worry." Michael cupped Brian's shoulder joint, rubbing the surface. "Do you think she really wants to go back?"

"No, but I'm fairly certain she knows what needs to happen to please all parties involved."

Michael's soothing moves paused. "She's told you _something_ , hasn't she?"

Brian shrugged one shoulder. "Maybe, but it was between her and I. I made a promise I wouldn't squeal on her."

Michael tip-toed his fingers toward Brian's loosening buttons. "Sure there isn't... some way..." Two buttons freed themselves. "... I can convince you." A third and fourth followed quite successfully. "It would be in both our best interests for you to..." He reached the trousers belt, undoing the last button, sweeping the material aside to caress the well-stacked abdomen. "... hand over the information." Michael's hand tried to dip under the belt, but Brian prevented the access.

" _Whoa, now!_ Bribery will get you everywhere, except _there_." Brian brought the sneaky hand to his mouth and gently kissed the knuckles.

Michael thought it odd that Brian didn't want to engage in some kind of sexual foreplay at this point. Something else must be on his mind. " _What is it?_ "

Brian had been staring at the structure of Michael's hand, when he realized he'd been asked a question. " _What?_ "

"Is there _something else_ rambling in your thoughts? _Something else_ you need to ask me?"

"I don't know. It's something Ted asked me when he gave me the invitation." Brian didn't say one more word, knowing he'd already sparked Michael's interest.

"I'm not begging you this time." Michael murmured his words against Brian's bare chest.

"I don't really think it's anything, but it was a weird request."

"Ted made a weird request? Of you?"

"No... of you. I suppose he thought he had to come through me in order to... uh, feel you out on the issue."

Michael grew even more curious. He lifted himself to look down at Brian. "Spill, Kinney." He tried to use his "forceful" voice, but failed. Especially when he could see directly into those hazel depths so closely, losing concentration. "What _issue_?"

"Jenny."

"What _about_ Jenny?"

"Ted wants to have a shot at watching her one evening."

Michael furrowed his brow. " _Why?_ "

"Parental training with Blake, I guess."

Michael was sent into complete silence, somewhat in disbelief. "And _what_ did you tell him?"

"I told him to 'fuck off' and ask you. I wasn't your keeper."

"No you didn't."

"Okay, I lied. I did tell him I wasn't your keeper, though."

Michael snickered lightly, then thought about the request. "Think he's trying to give me a free night on the town or something? Or you think he's serious about learning if he and Blake can cope with being 'proper parents' after their wedding?"

"Two ex-drug addicts. One an ex-Party Boy, the other an ex-wet blanket..."

"Brian..." Michael shook his head in secret shame at Brian's audacity sometimes.

"How the hell should I know what Schmidt's thinking these days. Look at what he's planning on doing with his life for the next fifty years. Hey, wait--" Brian paused, his thoughts a jumbled mess. "... you really think he wants to let you have a free night? Do you know how long it's been since you and I have been at Babylon... _together_?"

"Too long. Ever since... _shit_... I can't even recall how long ago."

"It's embarrassing to admit how long it _has_ been."

"So let's not say a thing. But let's plan on granting Ted his request."

“You don't have to do this for me.” Brian took Michael's chin in his grip. "I know how precious your time is with Jenny."

“I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for my own selfish purposes.” Michael took Brian's wrist in his own grasp. "I miss you and Babylon. More importantly, I miss being able to _watch you at Babylon_." He slunk down to nudge his face against Brian's.

"Things are different... now that I'm the owner."

"The King of Babylon in his rightful throne. How could that be any different?"

"No... I mean..." Brian couldn't even remember what he had meant to mean. He did have a point to make, but it was slipping away the more Michael suckled at his neck. He just might have to give in and suffer these dreadful consequences awaiting him. " _… shit... fuck..._ "

"Have I taken your breath away, Mr. Kinney?" Michael blew out a chuckle against Brian's wet skin.

"You always do, Mr. Novotny... you always do..."

Sometime, in the early morning hours of the following day, they did make it upstairs into their bed to sleep, after fooling around a bit on the couch.

 **~~TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

** Next Morning - Liberty Diner **

Jenny was on one of the counter stools at the Liberty Diner when she felt either side of her shaded by the addition of two warm bodies sitting right next to her. She was enjoying her breakfast, given to her for free by her grandmother, Debbie Novotny. She was on the short stack of fluffy buttermilk pancakes, the very last of her food intake.

Brian reached over Jenny's head for a menu, kissing the dark curls. "What's good here, Lady Jenny?

Michael folded his arms over the counter top, already knowing what he wanted this morning. He stared in awe at how much his daughter had already gulped down from the previous plates.

Having taken a huge bite of pancake with syrup, Jenny pushed the batter to the side of her mouth and turned to Brian. "… pwan-cake-s." She tried to eek out as she swallowed the delicious food.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, honey." Michael reprimanded as he upturned his coffee mug on the saucer.

Jenny motioned her thumb toward Brian. "… he ask'd." She answered on her final swallow.

Michael glanced over Jenny's head at Brian. "Don't encourage her to have bad table manners, Brian."

Brian tilted his head in a soft tease. "Give me a lifetime and an appropriate age to start hindering her emotional growth, then I can really do some damage." He turned back to look over the menu.

Michael crossed his arms again on the counter top. "Will do." He hoped Brian would consider the "lifetime" comment.

Jenny secretly smiled to herself, placing her utensils near her plate. Her hand moved to pick up the napkin she had eloquently spread over her lap, wiping her mouth of stickiness.

Brian didn't know exactly how to read what Michael had meant with his statement, but he was certain it had substance. He frowned, noticing the emptiness of the Diner's atmosphere without a certain loudmouth. "Where's your mother?"

Michael shrugged, pulling an arm up to lean a cheek on a hand. He shook his head, glancing down at Jenny in her miniature perfection. He reached out to pretend as if he were fixing her hair, even though every strand were in place. "Speaking of mothers, how did this morning go?"

Jenny picked up her plastic cup of orange juice, trying to aerodynamically pinpoint the straw to her mouth.

Brian glanced down, recognizing the same move as one of Michael's. He was going to miss moments like this, when he could see that the Novotny quirks would never end with Michael. "How are those merry munchers?!"

"BRIAN!" Michael couldn't believe that Brian wouldn't let up, even in front of Jenny.

Jenny never acknowledged the inference. She simply took the words as Brian's "way". "… mommy an' Linds are gonna have a birthday part for me... when I get home."

Michael squinted his eyes in confusion. "Your birthday isn't for another two months."

"Maybe it's a Canadian thing." Brian chimed in.

"What? Brian... quiet." Michael's interest was peeked. "Go on, sweetie."

"Sorry." Brian mumbled, spinning around to stand. He took off his coat and scarf, laying them on the stool. "I'll stop speaking now and go in search of some grub for us, darling." The sentence would have been fine on its own, but Brian punctuated the words by a wet peck and a slight ruffling of Michael's hair.

Michael sat and took the torture. He watched Brian leave, muttering a "be-have" as Brian stepped backward through the Diner's kitchen door. "Now... explain exactly what's being planned for you."

"… for me an' Linds." Jenny softly corrected her father's words.

"Excuse me?"

Jenny pushed herself forward, sitting almost like her father. "… i's not jus' my birthday... i's for a bunch of things..."

" _Liiiike?_ " Michael gently prodded.

"… me goin' home... to Tor-on-to..."

Michael inwardly cringed at that word. He hoped Jenny knew she had a "home" with him, wherever he was. "Yes, I know."

"… Linds gotta new job."

Michael hadn't expected that, but wasn't impressed much. "That's nice."

"… an' my birthday too..." Jenny simply stated not bothering to explain further.

"Okay..." Michael knew there had to be more to the decision to celebrate so many things at once.

"… mommy said Linds won' be there for my 'real' birthday..."

"On account of the new job." Michael filled in the blanks.

"… yup."

"Is she going away?"

Jenny nodded her head. "Yes." She hung her head in some other consequence to her words. "... for 'while, I think."

Michael was a little more relieved. He had thought he may have forgotten his own child's birthday. "So... are you excited?" He didn't pick up on Jenny's somber mood, he'd been distracted by a few expressively loud patrons coming through the door.

Jenny sighed, sitting up slightly straight. "… nope, not really."

Michael chuckled, thinking she sounded like the weight of the world was on her tiny shoulders. "Well, that's no way to feel about a party."

"… othur kids are silly..."

" _Silly?_ How 'silly' are we talking?"

"… they run 'round -- screamin', chasin' othur kids... sumtimes they kick or pinch... they don' wanna share toys or play games fair... they spin 'round in cir-culls an' get diz-ee... an' they put stuff in their mow-ths, eat stuff off the floor – a dirty floor... _reallyreallyreally_ silly, Daddy."

Michael could imagine that scenario on his own. He knew he could barely stand some of Gus' parties years ago. Jenny had a good point. "You don't have to hang around those types of kids, honey."

"… no one likes me, Daddy."

"What?" Michael was floored. The words came out plainly and succinct. Almost as if this had happened on more than one occasion. "No. Come on." He reached out to rub Jenny's back, tenderly comforting her.

“... yes, Daddy... they said 'm 'weird'...” Jenny's face appeared as if she had come to some agreement in her head that this was simply the way things would be. "… I don' act my age... I don' play like 'em... I don' talk like 'em... 'm differ'nt..."

"Well, sweetie, that's their loss. You're better off without them. Take it from me, being an 'oddball' kid, myself... it isn't fun at times, but once-n-awhile..." Michael shook his head, thinking about those long ago lonely days before he met Brian. "... something good can happen."

“I know.” Jenny nodded her head, crossing her tiny forearms on the counter and leaning her head down in silent misery. "… mommy wan's me to be frien's... I try, Daddy... I do... lots of kids are in-vit'd to my party, but..." She shook her head, saddened. "… now othur kids 'round our house in Toronto are comin'... an' sum of mommy an' Linds' frien's kids..." She still couldn't explain what was going wrong.

"Wow. That sounds like quite a few rugrats to handle."

“... I don' care...” Jenny's eyes caught her father's in earnest. "… no one comes to play wit' me, anyway... they like mommy's games... the cake... the stuff Linds' han's out..."

Michael slipped closer, making the conversation between them very private. "Have you told Mommy any of this?"

"...yup...” Jenny blurted out, but then shut her eyes. “... kinda..."

Michael reached out a hand to comb through the back of Jenny's long, plaited hair. "What does that mean?"

"… I tol' mommy, but she said i's happ'nin' anyway... I don' hav' to like it..."

“That doesn't seem fair to you.” Michael scrunched his brow in quiet fury. "The party can't only be about Lindsay. What's gonna happen when it _is_ your birthday? I can't see the justification of having another one." He blinked his eyes in amazement. "Are you sure this is what's going to happen when you get back?"

"… yup..." Jenny lifted her head, patting her father's arm. "… 'm us'd to it..." She slid off the stool, coming around the other side of the counter. She found what she wanted, walking back to take her seat.

Michael looked toward the kitchen door. He thanked God that Brian wasn't here to listen in, then wondered where the hell he had gotten to. "I'm not sure I like hearing that you're 'used to' things at your age." He then moved to view the cook's window.

Two plates appeared out of the blue.

Brian was soon following, picking up the plates on his way to his own stool. He waved and told the Chef, "Thanks!". He gave Michael one, patting the hunched shoulder. He could tell something was up by the pained, slightly confused look of Michael's face. It was also odd that Jenny had become so quiet suddenly. "What'd I miss?"

"Nuthin'." Michael mumbled as he put a napkin over his lap, pouring syrup and quickly digging into his delicious food. The topic of discussion was better served once he had time to think about certain things and when it would be more private with Brian.

Brian understood the silent treatment he was receiving, he knew better than to push the issue. "I'll talk to Schmidt today."

"Oh, yeah? _About what?_ " Michael was glad for the change of subject.

Brian raised an eyebrow in question. "What do you think?"

Michael already knew, he simply loved yanking Brian's chain. "I don't know. What _do_ I think?"

Brian quickly stood to pick up the caffeine-ated coffee pot and pour himself a cup. He found Michael a bottle of cranberry juice cocktail in the mini-fridge. He opened the plastic bottle, pouring out the contents. He threw in the straw as an afterthought. "What we were talking about last night." After rigging up the coffee, he took a tentative sip. He had no idea what it would taste like this morning. He was shocked at the tasty brew. Debbie must have been late today.

"We talked about _a lot_ of things." Michael let his plastic straw revolve around the glass lip before he took a sip of cool juice. "Could you be more specific?"

"Don't make me come over there to kick your ass."

"There's plenty of things I'd love for you to do to my ass, but kicking's not one of them."

Jenny swiveled around, grabbing up her cup and warm jacket. "Booth's free!" She hurriedly jumped down to snag their "usual" hot spot in the Diner. She got the seats mostly for Brian and her father.

Brian made a shocked face, licked and sucked an index finger of sausage grease, then struck the air as if Michael had scored "one point" against him. "Good one, Mikey."

Michael picked up his plate, his glass and leaned over toward Brian as he was sliding off his stool. "I know I am... you said so last night." He walked out of Brian's reach, crawling onto the bench seat before Jenny. He knew she liked to peter around the kitchenette.

"Ooo, that's two in row. I may have to bear down to catch up." Brian trailed behind Michael, with his own plate and coffee mug. He slid into the seat across from Michael and Jenny. "… soooo..." He watched as both father and daughter avoided him and any thought of bringing him up to speed on what, or whom, they had conversed about. "... Lady Jenny, how goes it up in the Great White North?" He began to scoop up his scrambled eggs.

Jenny sighed. " _It goes_ , Brian, _it goes_."

From the monotone way Jenny spoke, Brian could sense something was wrong. "What's Smelly Melly done now?"

Jenny had just taken a sip of her juice, nearly catching it coming out of her nostrils as she giggled loud.

"Brian, please!" Michael picked up a napkin to help clean up some of the spilt beverage.

Jenny took over the cleaning. "… thanks, Daddy... I got it..."

"What? She's heard me use that reference before. It's nothing new."

"Yeah, get a better routine. But show some damn respect for my daughter's mother."

Jenny patted her father's arm. "… i's all right, Daddy... I know i's Brian's _**way**_."

" _My 'what'?_ " Brian balked, his eyes growing large.

" _Brian's 'what'?_ " Michael wasn't sure he heard correctly.

Jenny folded her hands on the table top. "… i's how you are..." She looked over at Brian as she explained, unflinching.

" _How I am 'what'?_ " Brian was perplexed by that simple comment. He never expected it to come back and haunt him.

"Brian, don't get snippy. She's making a simple observation. And... she's just a child."

"Jenny's a very perceptive child, Michael. I'm intrigued to hear what she has to say." Brian continued to eat, one ear elevated to listen closely as he attempted to digest both the food and words coming at him.

"… you don' like mommy much...."

"Correct, but wrong. She hated me first."

Michael rolled his eyes, taking a sip of juice. "Does that really matter?"

"Yes. Yes it does." Brian stated clearly.

Michael let his knife clank on his plate, telling Brian he was getting close to misbehavior. Soon he might find a sneaky way to kick some hidden shins under the table.

"Sorry, Jenny. I'm listening. I promise." Brian pretended to put on his listening ears, which made the little girl smirk, like her father.

“... nuthin' else...” Jenny glanced between her father and Brian, shrugging her shoulders. "... no one likes everybody the same... even fam'ly..."

Brian and Michael paused in their eating, both looking at one another. Something was much more wrong than either of them knew.

" _Whoa, there... whoa..._ " Brian set down his fork, wiping a napkin over his lips. "Why am I getting this strange feeling this just became about more than Mel and I?"

Jenny averted her eyes, trying to scoot off the benchseat.

Michael had felt Jenny growing ashamed and more introvert than usual. "Apparently, Jenny isn't prepared to go back home quite yet." He tried to grab her before she left, but knew she needed some space.

Jenny was half-on, half-off the seat.

"Why not?" Brian sat back, extremely curious.

"Daddy, no." Jenny wasn't sure she wanted Brian to know any of this. She didn't like angering him more.

"Jenny, Brian should know what's going on. Like you always say... we're family."

Brian didn't like the dejected look that came over Jenny's face. He knew she hated being the cause of so much trouble.

"… I do wanna go home, but..." Jenny didn't know how to say what she really meant, in such a public place, minutes before everyone had to go to work.

" _But what?_ " Brian wasn't comprehending the dirty little secret Jenny felt she had to hide. "Michael, _what's going on?_ "

Jenny cleared her throat, twisting her napkin in her hands. "… I wanna go back... aff-tur my birthday... aff-tur..." She got up to step behind the counter to find something new to get into and forget.

Brian wrinkled his brow as he watched Jenny walk away. "What the hell happened while I was gone... _for five minutes?_ " Michael wasn't speaking, his eyes were on his daughter, closely investigating her body movements. "Michael... her birthday is almost three months away. I thought..."

Michael moved to look across to Brian, a certain sadness to his eyes for Jenny's predicament. "Her birthday is _two_ months away."

"Fine, but what--?"

"Lindsay has a new job."

"So _whoop-tee-fuc-_... _freakin'-do_!"

Michael stifled a chuckle. "Lindsay won't be around in two months, apparently."

"Okay, but why--?" Brian still wasn't clear on why Jenny looked defeated.

"Lindsay's job will take her away from Toronto on Jenny's fifth birthday, so it looks like Mel is making the party a... uh, conglomerate of celebrations."

“Linds misses one birthday. It's not the end of the world.” Brian shrugged one shoulder. "She's not going to be taken hostage or off doing mission work for years on end. She'll be back."

"This is what they want to do when Jenny returns." Michael made it seem like that was the final word.

"What?" Brian shook his head, not sure Michael was aware of some things. “Make her feel more insignificant than she usually does?” He thought he'd have time to tell them or let Jenny speak on her own. He didn't know his time frame anymore.

"Brian..." Michael put up a hand in warning. "... _don't_..."

" _Don't what?_ Take a stand when I think something's wrong or unfair? Or try to make things better than what they were?" Brian took a sip of his coffee, then leaned forward, arms on the table. "I can't believe you'd sit there and let this go on, right under your nose. This is the very thing I've been working to prevent. It's why we have Jenny here in The Pitts with us, in the first place."

"I don't want to start any trouble. Doing anything right now could very well jeopardize my custody of Jenny as it stands. I'm sure they both have some fairly choice words about me keeping Jenny this long."

"Barely even one month, Michael."

"Brian..." Michael took a deep breath, trying to gain some composure. "I heard about the situation five seconds before you did. I need some time to think on it."

Brian was more uncertain of where Michael's head was truly at. The initial guilt of having Jenny and keeping her longer than expected weighed heavily on him. "Look, before you even think about caving in, you need to know exactly where they _both_ are in the scheme of all this."

“I refuse to make my own daughter a tattletale.” Michael shook his head, sitting back, arms across his chest. "She feels like she's the cause of this more than she should."

"That's not what I'm suggesting."

"Then what _are_ you suggesting?" Michael came back to leaning over the table, closer to Brian.

" _Use..._ _ **me**_."

Michael shut his eyes. He had hoped for something more brilliant than that suggestion. "Brian... I can't..." He began shaking his head, a sly smirk on his face.

Brian could sense that Michael was too caught up in his own mind to see straight. He knew the offer was taken out of context. "Hear me out. Use me as your 'decoy'." Michael still wasn't on the same page, yet. "They... Mel and Linds... have no idea to how close we've become."

Michael loved hearing how easy it was for Brian to come right out and say what he truly felt, so passionately. "Yes, okay. You've got my attention."

"Let me call my good ole friend Lindsay and check to see what's up. What's going on in her Blond Ambition noggin."

"Brian, I won't--"

" _What? Let me care about you? About Jenny?_ "

"No. I won't let you put your friendship with Lindsay at risk for me or my daughter. I would hate to see something like that done to us."

"Michael... _please_..." Brian was sure Michael hadn't really meant to say that. Did he _not_ recall how life started off, during Melanie's pregnancy? How the girls had turned Brian against Michael's position as father to the unborn child? "You're too fuckin' sweet for your own good, Michael. Get selfish, for Christ's sake. Fight for something you want."

" _Which would be?_ " Michael let another grin slip out.

"The family you always dreamed of since you were a kid. Even if it fucks conventionalism up its ass... you have some fatherly rights here that you've been denied for far too long."

"You want me to fight for _full custody_ of Jenny?"

“If that's what you hear me say and what you really want to happen.” Brian sat back, nearly exhausted. "Find a way to be happy, content."

"I am. With you."

" _Bullshit._ "

"No, not _bullshit_. I mean it."

Brian waggled his finger at Michael. "You're a good liar, but not a great one. Your eyes never lie." He reached across the table top to grab for Michael's forearm. "No matter how good it is between us, in your heart you'll always try for something better. Whatever is between you and I it should never become something you consider a factor in having Jenny."

Michael covered his palm over Brian's hand, rubbing the unusually soft skin. "I do have something better than what I once had. Or at the very least, it's enough. For now. I don't want or need things to be too good. There'll be nowhere for me to go, but down."

"And people call me the 'Drama Queen'."

"I think we're equal. I just mask it well."

"Not from me." Brian allowed one side of his mouth to creak up.

"No, you're right." Michael brought up a hand to hide his sweet smile. “Never from you.”

Brian pulled away, placing a napkin over his nearly empty plate. "I gotta go."

Michael blinked his eyes, not expecting the conversation to be over so soon. "Now?"

Brian was picking up his briefcase, scarf and coat. "Don't you have your own business to run?"

"Maybe. I was thinking I could call in sick."

“Don't beat yourself in the head with this.” Brian stood, putting on his coat, wrapping the scarf about his neck. "Not until you know the full truth."

"Okay."

"Agreed?"

Michael shrugged, nonchalantly. "Yeah, I guess."

Brian stepped over to Michael, pulling back the locks of spikes in front of the ebony hairline. "Next time... more enthusiasm." He chucked Michael's chin, running the finger down the roughly stubbled cheek. He thought about it, then decided to do what he had been wanting to do for quite awhile now. He smooched Michael's lips... hard. "... and, next time... more tongue."

"… you leavin', Brian?"

Brian felt the small body slightly nudge his legs. "Do I have your permission, Lady Jenny?" He turned to hold her to his shape.

"… de-pens... do I get a kiss?" Jenny didn't even lift up her head in expectation.

"I got better than that." Brian hefted Jenny in his arms, proceeding to make a fool out of himself... like any adoring father would to his own child. He could care less. Jenny was smiling and soon giggling like the little girl she was. He set her right in his arms, fixing her clothes properly. "Take care of your Dad for me... 'kay?"

Jenny was pulling at her own clothes, straightening the wrinkles. "Always do." She wanted to be put down. As she reached the floor, she sidled up to her father's side.

Brian glanced down at father and daughter, so alike in looks and manners. "Pick you two up at the usual time?" He was fixing his coat collar, reaching for his briefcase.

Michael arched his neck, looking up to Brian as he hooked Jenny to his side with one arm. "Nah... half-day today."

"Lucky you."

Michael chuckled, shaking his head while placing a kiss to the top of Jenny's dark curls. "Did you forget you're your own boss too?"

"No, I did not, slacker. We all can't bring down _The Man_ like you do every day. Someone has to be responsible and put away some cash to pay the bills."

“Sell the Loft.” Michael squinted his eyes toward Brian. "You can survive for years off the profits alone."

"No."

"Brian, come on."

"I'm _not_ selling, Michael." Brian had no idea why he wasn't already half-way out the door, heading into work.

"Why? The market fresh out of cold-hearted, rich, handsome, swinging single bastards like you?"

"Flattery... will get you nowhere."

"Brian..." Michael knew Brian was aware of this one prickly issue in their relationship.

" _I'm not doing it._ "

"Brian, I'm not--"

"No."

"Why are you being so stubborn about this? You practically live at the house as it is. Why do you still need--?"

"Because..." Brian was about to explain but looked at his wristwatch. "Look, I don't like pressure from you. I already have a plan set in motion."

Michael could tell Brian wasn't upset over this one issue between them. It had suddenly become a cute game... a test even of Brian's will. "Oh, you do, do you?"

"Yes. I, Brian Kinney, being of sound mind and succulent body _do_ have an exuberant amount of time left in my extremely busy, exhaustive day to ponder such quandaries as... The Future."

Michael nodded his head, liking the quick quip he had been given in response. They would talk about it much later in the day. "Fine."

"Good." Brian turned to walk away.

"Great."

"Stupendous."

Michael decided to up the ante. "I love you."

The Diner got quiet in expectation.

Brian swiveled to say, simply. "I know." He winked, then proceeded to exit with the very last word.

But Michael was the only one who knew that it wasn't the "final" one... not even by a long shot.

  
**~~TBC...**


	3. Chapter 3

** Liberty Diner ( ** _ cont'd _ ** ) **

Michael tried to hide an enormous grin behind Jenny's head, kissing and tucking his face in the midst of the raven-haired locks. He knew what Brian really meant, adoring the beautiful vision plastered on the gorgeous features as they backed out the door.

"… is Brian upset wit' mommy?" Jenny turned in her father's embrace to face him.

"No. See, they have these long-buried feelings about each other. This is their 'thing' that they do to express what they can't say. Sometimes it's been the only way they know how to deal with each other."

"… all the time." Jenny didn't ask a question, she stated the words matter-of-fact.

"Yeah, you could say that." Michael chuckled, squeezing Jenny tight. He went back to eating breakfast with one hand. He scooted down the bench, allowing Jenny room to sit. Instead, she quickly moved to the opposite side of the table, collecting Brian's dirty dishes. "Sweetie... Jen..." He tried to grasp her hand to stop her pursuit. "... they have people here who do that for a living."

"… I know... i's one tabil..." Jenny shrugged, stacking utensils on the plate, wiping up crumbs. "... I like bein' need'd... i's kinda..." She tried to search for a better word to describe the foreign feeling. "... fun... like me helpin' you in the store." She turned with dishes and a coffee cup in her hand. "… mommy won' let me do nuthin', but gets upset pickin' up after people."

"That's sweet that you feel special, but it's illegal for anyone, even your own father, to put you to work at your age. If anybody, with a moral conscience, sees you busing tables... then my ass is grass."

Jenny paused in the middle of her trek behind the counter to put away the dirty plates and cup. "… I do chores at home?" She found the gray bin, under the low cupboards.

Michael was flabbergasted Jenny could make that kind of observation. "Uh... sort of..." He had no way of counteracting that query without sounding stupid.

The Liberty Diner doorbell jangled as Debbie Novotny strolled in from her hurried shopping spree. " _Damn!_ It's colder than a witch's two tits out there!"

A few regular patrons snickered at the familiar brash sense of humor.

" _Ma! Please._ " Michael gestured to Jenny for his mother to control her usual foul language.

Jenny came back from around the counter, noticing the canvas grocery bags her grandmother had set down near her feet. "… hi, gran'ma... fin' stuff you need'd?" She was making quick work of her cleaning duties, before her grandmother had a chance to notice.

"Michael..." Debbie made a slight gesture with her head for Michael to help out his daughter.

Michael shook his head, silently telling his mother he wasn't even going to go there. “Let her alone.” He had already tried to put a stop to it. "She wants to do it."

Jenny released a full-on genuine smile. "… yup, I like it... i's fun." She wiped her hands on the clean rag she was using as a semi-apron over her clothes. She tip-toed over to spy on what could be inside the grocery bags.

Debbie made to stop her granddaughter for a quick snuggle and smooch. She patted the small back, holding Jenny close for only a second or two longer. "Honest, I don't know, or care, where you sprung from, babygirl, but you a put a mighty fine smile on this old woman's face."

"… yur not ol', gran'ma." Jenny muffled against the folds of heavy winter coat, swatting her grandmother's hip.

Hands in normal position, Debbie kicked out a hip. "So... what _am_ I these days?" She knew people gossiped around the Diner, not even caring that her family could be in listening distance. Gay men never were great at keeping their mouths shut or their voices low.

"… _colorful_." Jenny piped up in excitement, having heard the word used once or twice.

Michael almost choked on his last swallow of pancakes. Brian's influence was fairly clear on Jenny. "Sounds like the right 'cue' for us to exit and start the day."

Jenny smiled up at her grandmother's blank stare. "… it was fun las' nite... thank you..."

Debbie tried to shake her head out of its shock and bewilderment. “Me, too, angel.” She finally took off her jacket, unwound the scarf around her neck and placed everything on a coat rack hanging in a corner near the wall. "Maybe we can do it again, before you go back home."

"… yeah... maybe." Jenny muttered as she dragged one canvas bag toward the mini-fridge on the floor behind the counter.

Debbie glanced quickly at Michael, who played possum. "Love ya', sweetness." She bent to hug and kiss her granddaughter one more time. She closed her eyes in silent misery, hopeful that Michael would one day hold her back in his confidence. She wished he felt comfortable enough to open up to her like he used to.

Michael held out a hand for Jenny to take. "C'mon, let's get going." He'd taken out some money from his wallet, pretending as if he hadn't been hearing everything said between his mother and his daughter. "Bye, Ma'." He plopped down a twenty near her hand, blowing her a half-assed "air" kiss.

"Whoa! What's the friggin' rush!?" Debbie snagged Michael's jacket shoulder, pulling him back.

"Ma', I'm almost late as it is." Michael picked up Jenny's things, putting on his own coat.

"Liar. I can tell when you're holding back from me." Debbie kept her voice hushed, she motioned her head and hand toward the Diner's front door. "Like Twinkle Toes, for instance..."

Michael barely snickered out, wondering what the hell his mother could mean. " _Excuse me?_ "

"You know who I mean. That boy must be scorin' some mighty fine tail with a smile _that_ wide spread out on his face." Debbie had never known Brian to be so... _so_... doggone happy in his life.

"Ma'... _please_." Michael tried not to laugh outright, moving to attempt a smooth swipe to cover Jenny's delicate ears.

"Who knew Kinney could have a 'skip' in his step like that." Debbie kept shaking her head in puzzlement.

"Now I _really_ gotta go." Michael knew his mother wanted him to stay and gossip with her. He wasn't sure how she would like knowing her own son was partly responsible for Brian's mood of late.

" _Call me later this week!_ " Debbie yelled at Michael as he left. "I want to see Jenny before she leaves." She walked behind the counter to find her vest.

"Got it, Ma'." Michael was pulling Jenny with him as he backed out the diner's front door. " _Love ya'!_ "

"Love..." Debbie had barely lifted her head back up when she saw the back of Michael disappear behind the closing glass door. "... _well, damn!_ Bye..." She paced to the empty booth, looking at the mess she'd been left. "... _you little shit_."

~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~

Jenny was seated on the tall, swivel chair placed directly in front of the cash register. " _Daddy?!_ "

There was some spattering of noise beyond the locked front door of Red Cape Comics.

"Jen..." Michael was trying to gather boxes and invoices from the back room, so he could work on with Jenny, making the day go by faster. "... I'll be right out!"

"… wha' time those people comin'?" Jenny asked in curiosity, knowing her father was interviewing today. She shot back slightly, in the chair, as she saw a face try to peer into the storefront window.

"Jenny..." Michael could barely hear what Jenny was saying, plus concentrating on not being hit in the head by boxes and things on the shelves. "... give me a minute... or two."

" _ **Daddy!?**_ " Jenny heard the front door being jiggled again, the face trying to peer in to see if people were actually _in_ the building.

Michael huffed a breath as he carried out the first box, setting it on the glass counter. "Hon', I'm here... calm down." He wiped his sweaty palms on the back of his jeans.

"… don' yell at me." Jenny pointed to the face still peeking through the glass of the door. "… _yell at 'em_!"

Michael swiftly turned to have his own look. " _HO-LEE... shi-..._ " He whispered out the explicative, making his way to unlock the door. "Well..." He paused to try and find his next breath. "... as I live and breathe. What in the world?" He was completely, and utterly, at a loss for words at who was coming to visit him.

"... when I landed, told the taxi driver to take me to the shittiest dirthole in town. _What do ya' know!_ he dropped me off right here, practically on your doorstep."

Jenny couldn't see who was at the door, but she _wanted_ to. She couldn't climb down or she'd never be able to get back up. She wasn't getting a good view of the stranger, because her father continued to block him.

When they finally hugged, the visitor was swung around to have his back face her. The voice was, somewhat, recognizable. Jenny was going more with the look of awe... _and love?_... on her father's shocked face. Didn't take her long to realize this person was someone _very_ special. She hoped she knew him already and didn't have to be quickly introduced to another new person in her father's life. She thought their nice, little family gathering was enough. _No more applicants being accepted_. Honestly, it was because it was one more person she had to impress.

Michael stood back, re-locking the door. “Last time you called...” He leaned a little weakly on the cool surface of glass. “... you never mentioned...” He splayed a hand over his chest, finding it difficult to catch any air in his lungs to speak.

"I know. Sorry 'bout that. Kind of a spur of the moment thing." The stranger really did sound apologetic.

Michael let his hand roam over the back of the nape of his neck. "Have you seen Ben?"

“Yeah.” The young man tucked his hands in his pants pockets, a bit shy all of a sudden. "That's where I'm laying my head while I'm here."

"For how long?" Michael inquired, wondering why he hadn't been asked. He knew, though, that he wasn't the legal parent anymore.

"For... _awhile_."

Michael crossed his arms over his chest, his brow furrowing. "I haven't spoken to Ben in several months." He dropped his eyes, almost ashamed.

The young man snickered, sending out a soft punch to Michael's biceps. "Why the hell would you, dufus?"

"I'm only saying..." Michael wanted the young man to be aware he still had an interest in his life, but kept his distance to be sensible.

"Dude..." The young man reached out to lay a gentle hand on Michael's shoulder. "... it's okay. Peachy. Life goes on and so must we, right?"

Michael quickly raised his eyes to glance over the sweet face that had aged a few years. "How is he?"

"Good, I guess. I don't ask, he never tells... ya' know. He seems as 'zen' as ever. Although, don't hold me to how honest he is about anything. He looks happy. Well..." The young man chuckled deeply, shaking his newly shorn locks. "... I'm assuming I don't have to go into a long explanation of Professor 'Tight-Ass' Bruckner to you."

"No, you don't." Michael chuckled heartily in relief. "Making small talk, as you know I do."

"Yes, I do..." The young man became serious, contemplative. "... but it's refreshing to hear again."

Jenny sat, hands folded in her lap, mesmerized. She hadn't moved once, transfixed by the strange visitor. He had strolled in so easily and conversed in such a comforting manner with her father. " _Daddy?_ " She softly called out, hoping to be noticed, eventually.

Michael blinked, finally realizing that he had been in a trance for quite some time. " _What?_ Oh, yeah..." He shook his head to clear his mind of fogginess. He walked around the young man, moving toward the counter. He smiled at Jenny. "I'm sorry, sweetie. That was quite rude of me." He pinched his nose to get himself together to talk again.

The young man made a smooth swivel to follow Michael. Those keen eyes ending up glued to the child staring at him in wide-eyed curiosity. "You... have got to be shittin' me." The comment was deadpan shock. "This can't be Jenny Rebecca."

Jenny inwardly cringed at her middle name being attached to her first, reminding her of her mother's frustrated tone.

Michael beamed proudly, stepping behind the counter to hook an arm about Jenny's small shoulders. "She only likes to go by 'Jenny' or 'Jen' these days."

The young man glanced at Michael, jaw still open. " _Where the hell have I been?_ "

Michael shook his head at the tease. "Jenny... I'd like you to meet someone _very_ special." He dipped his head to speak directly into the tiny ear. "This is your older brother... well, your _adopted_ brother... _**Hunter**_."

So... _this was_ _ **Hunter**_ _?_ Hmm... Jenny had met him nearly two years ago, but she didn't recall him looking exactly _this_ way. Interesting. "… I know... he came to Toronto wit' you."

Michael was surprised he had forgotten so easily. " _Whoops!_ That's right. Sorry, my bad."

Hunter sauntered up to the glass counter. His once longish mop of dirty blond hair was now cut and styled professionally. Hair wax and mousse perfectly spiked the ends atop his head, shaping the rest around his ears and neck. He was dressed unlike he had ever been before. As if Brian and Ben rubbed off on his sense of clothing style. He looked remarkably clean-cut and handsome for being a young man of college age, roughly twenty-one or twenty-two years old. He leaned over the glass, holding his hand out for a friendly shake.

Jenny wasn't sure what to do with the offered hand or the fact that she had yet _another_ brother. Back then, she hadn't known the relation Hunter had been to her, so she hadn't given him any attention. Plus, Hunter didn't seem to want to be in a brotherly mood, which saved them both plenty of awkward moments. She knew if her father was happy to see him, then she should give Hunter the benefit of doubt. He must be okay to like. She tentatively took the hand, certainly not expecting what happened next.

Hunter took Jenny's tiny hand, gently. He treated the delicate skin and bones like fine China. Placing their hands palm to palm, he gallantly bent over the small fingers to buss a kiss on the pale skin. "Enchanted..." He winked across to Jenny, hoping the stunned look would soon change into a child-like smile.

“... now I 'member you." Jenny clearly stated, wanting to take her hand back. Not because she felt _icky_ , but because anyone who liked her right away was suspect.

Michael smirked as he realized his daughter could hold her own with Hunter. He didn't have to worry about them together. She could smell through bullshit pretty easily. She was definitely his daughter. Or maybe he should be worried because she was growing too used to Brian.

Hunter chuckled, grinning sheepishly, but warmly holding Jenny's hand in his own. He knew caution when he saw it and it was pouring out of her eyes, like a blend of fear and determination. It was as if she was afraid, but reluctant to fall easily into anybodys' charms. Even as young as she was, her appearance spoke volumes. Jenny had seen much more than she let on, even to her father. "Seems my reputation proceeds me. I guess I don't even score any brownie points for being an older, wiser sibling." He gave a silent nod toward Michael, letting him know there would be respect shown to his daughter.

Michael accepted the kind, silent gesture with his own calm head bob.

Hunter allowed his eyes to roam back to Jenny's penetrating stare. "Man, that could be a really good thing... or very, _very_ bad, eh?"

Jenny couldn't help the smile that slipped out. There was genuine like-ability she couldn't deny. Something told her that her father's influence was deeply embedded in the young man.

Michael cleared his throat, making his presence known. "So... what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" He kept his arm about Jenny.

Hunter finally gave Jenny her hand back after squeezing the bones once, tenderly. "Possibility of a job."

" _What?!_ " Michael crossed arms over his chest, his eyes zeroing on Hunter's face. "You can't be serious." He was trying to gauge the emotions and the truth.

" _What?_ That I'm actually career-oriented?"

"No, that you're back here in The Pitts job hunting."

Hunter knew Michael might be this way initially, but he also knew that the convincing of his seriousness was going to be easier than with Ben. "I have family here, dude. Where else would a freeloading moocher go to get away from bill collectors and creditors?" He slipped out of his hip-length jacket, unwinding the scarf from his neck. He twirled about the floor to get the usual two-cent tour. "Place hasn't changed a bit. I think the dirt piles moved. A few dust bunnies vanished, but--

Jenny tried to stifle a chuckle behind her hand. _Yeah…_ she was going to like _this_ brother better than Gus.

“Haven't had much time, been busy.” Michael picked up the box he brought with him from the back room. “I'm hiring part-time employees, possible full-time ones, for the holidays.” He dragged the box closer to Jenny so they could begin checking the inventory before he opened the store. "I wished you had called. I could have freed up the day for you."

"Have to babysit the kid?" Hunter teased, as he set his things on a comic book rack.

"No." Michael made a face. He felt like sticking his tongue out, but he tucked it in his cheek. "... doing _something_." He wasn't sure he should let Hunter in on the budding relationship with Brian. The boy would probably figure it out on his own, anyway.

"Man, that was rather un-insightful. Is it naughty?"

Michael chuckled, handing Jenny a pen. "No. Quite boring, actually."

"You sure? Because, right now, 'boring' is sounding better than what my future career holds."

Michael searched for the invoice in the box. "Which is?" He unfolded the paper, sliding it onto a clipboard that sat in front of Jenny on the counter.

Hunter leaned a hip on the register counter. "I'm interning. Ben got me what looked to be one sweet-ass gig, but--" He shook his head at the growing disappointment he was finding, the longer he worked with his employer.

"But... _what?_ "

"I'm being as honest as I can. I'm pretty well-set on the job front, good money. I don't know. The guy's semi-creepy. Not like a _psycho-murderer creepy_ , more of a... _Michael Jackson-pedophile creepy_."

Jenny didn't know who Michael Jackson was… but the way Hunter was acting was hilarious. She was enjoying his company, his simple presence. No wonder her father liked him.

" _Ewww..._ " Michael grimaced accordingly. He tipped the box in his hand, letting the stack of comics fall into his palm. He was about to count them and show Jenny how to circle the quantities next to the titles on the invoice.

"Yeah, tell me about it." Hunter lifted his brown mock-turtleneck sweater's bottom hem, showing off what _things_ were now attached to his belt. He pointed out a very expensive looking beeper. "See _this_ and..." He pulled out a hand-held PDA from the back pocket of his corduroy pants. "... _this_ snazzy gadgetry..."

" _Wow..._ that is one serious tight leash."

"More like an unofficial 'umbilical cord'."

" _Ouch._ " Michael snickered, shaking his head. Hunter must be in pain trying to play by someone else's rules.

"He calls me at the drop of a hat for every little thing. What's sweet about the set-up is... he stays up 'til, like, four in the AM. Doesn't wake up until noon or something late like two, or three, in the PM." Hunter pulled back his sweater cuff, looking at his watch. He tried to match it with Michael's wall clock. "This is my 'safe' time. He left me a message, early this morning, that he had a fairly late evening. He probably won't be up until after four. I'm thinking it'll be more like five or something ridiculously later."

Michael wasn't sure he completely understood what Hunter actually _did_ for his employer. "That _does_ sound sweet. Is he some kind of professional 'club boy'?" He noticed that Hunter became a little quiet, which was unusual. "Is he one of Ben's friends?"

Hunter used his hand to say "so-so". "An old professor of Ben's boyfriend's." He really didn't want to tell Michael the truth. He realized too late that he may have said something he shouldn't have. " _Oh, wait... damn_ , you knew, right?'

Michael had heard that little tidbit of information on Ben. He decided to carry on the lie. " _What?_ That Ben was _dating_ someone? Oh, yeah... I've known." He went on counting one specific title of comic, over and over again. “For awhile.”

Jenny clicked the pen ink out. "… nuh-uh, Daddy." She let her eyes glance up to catch Hunter's eye. "… tell us the truth."

Hunter was unsettled by the sheer control and confidence in Jenny's gaze. It was eerie.

"What if it sucks?" 

The comment, from Michael, had come out suddenly, that neither Jenny or Hunter had been prepared for its frankness. They snickered, attempting to hide their laughter. They discovered they had one thing in common. They both loved and understood Michael deeply.

Jenny cleared her throat. "… we're fam'ly, Daddy."

"Yeah... Pop." Hunter tried that endearment on his tongue, not liking it too much. "No shame in being honest about your feelings."

Michael was in his own head, wondering how honest he could be with the children, especially concerning Brian. "Son..." He rubbed Jenny's shoulder bone, moving from behind the counter to retrieve another box. "… sweetie... you don't have any idea." He was gone, leaving them with that last look of a mysterious grin on his lips.

" _About what?_ " Hunter tapped his chin, smiling devilishly at Jenny. He knew that reaction had absolutely _nothing_ to do with Ben. Quite possibly it had everything to do with _another_ aspect of Michael's life. A love-life, presumably. He inched closer to the counter. He was staring directly at the very tiny human being who might know a thing or two he didn't. " _Jenny Rebecca--Jenny--Jen... my dear, dear little sister..._ "

Jenny understood why her father liked this young man. Now if she could only figure out how he had become her 'brother', adopted or not. "… quit it... I don' tell see-krits..."

Hunter let his head rest on his hand, looking at Jenny with flattering eyes. "How did I know I was gonna like you, even before I met you?"

Jenny rolled her eyes, knowing she wouldn't get any work done with Hunter hanging out.

~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~

Brian was seated at the head of the huge boardroom table, where a staff meeting was finishing. Cynthia was seated on his right, Ted on his left. He had stopped listening to the biweekly client updates about ten minutes ago. His mind was more on what he wanted to discuss with Ted.

"Brian..." A voice called out.

"Uhhh, yup..." Brian tried to look up with some enthusiasm, in case anyone was watching him. He looked at his two co-pilots.

The meeting must have ended sooner than he realized. Everyone was waiting, expecting him to place his usual "period" at the end of this long sentence.

"Sorry." Brian scratched at his hairline. He gave a sad, half-grin, making some hand gesture to the jumbledness of his mind. "Yeah... so much to take in at once... and mull over."

A majority of the employees were gathering their things, already on their way toward their desks.

Cynthia was the only one remaining seated. She had been taking notes the entire meeting.

"Next time, Kinney..." Ted sputtered out. "... lay off the case of Red Bull and uppers." He and a few of the Kinnetik co-workers chuckled under their breathes at their, apparently, frazzled boss; Cynthia joined in only slightly interested in the humor.

"I wonder if--" Brian began, biting on the end of his pen. "Could you give us a moment." He vocalized, shutting his open legal notepad.

Ted quieted down. He thought he may have gone too far. He decided to speed up his pace on exiting. "Oh... sure. I'll get outta your hair... in a few."

"No." Brian shook his head. "Not _you_. _Her_." He gestured to Cynthia as he leaned into the high-backed executive chair.

"I'll go type these up then." Cynthia was used to being dismissed, often coldly. "Pardon me."

"Sit down, Ted."

" _Oh-kaaayyy_..." Ted cautiously retook his chair, not knowing what he was about to face. "Is this _serious_?" He looked around and it would appear they were completely alone. _Was he being fired today? Good God, what had he said?_

" _Are you?_ " Brian sat up, pushing his chair under the table, crossing his legs at the ankles.

" _What?_ "

"Serious." Brian stated plainly, pulling no punches.

" _About what?_ "

“I Don't know, Teddy.” Brian tilted his head back, relaxing on the plush head cushion. "What exactly has totally encapsulated your mind... your very life? Practically eaten you whole for the last few months?" It was a rhetorical question. Ted could answer, if he wanted.

"You saying I'm slacking here at work?" Ted wasn't quite sure what Brian's angle was on the topic.

"No, if anything, you're even better than you were a year ago. What I'm trying to ask you is if you're really serious about the entire thing."

"My wedding to Blake, you mean?" Ted wanted to be sure they were discussing the right "thing".

"Was it _that_ difficult to figure out?"

Ted noticed something different about Brian. Maybe it was the way he was placing the questions, the inflection of his voice. It didn't sound like Brian was _upset_ with him, only with the fact Ted considered marriage an option. "Brian, what's wrong with you?"

"Have I been _that_ difficult to 'deal with'?" Brian threw Ted's words back at him from Michael's note.

"Are you being sincere?" Ted got tickled by this side of Brian he hadn't seen before. Was the guy so anti-marriage that _no one_ could be happy? Even if that person was the one person Brian Kinney wasn't keen on being friends with?

" _Don't._ " Brian put up a hand for Ted to stop pestering around and get to his “point”. He didn't want to pussy-foot around and start an argument.

"Brian, what--?" Ted knew Michael could have recently conversed with Brian, but the fact that he could have learned of the note he sent with Michael's invitation... _well, it was weird_. "Are you angry I invited Michael _before_ you?"

"No. Please. This isn't third grade."

"Then... what the fuck is your question supposed to mean?"

"You... and Blake. _Are you two serious?_ "

"And this bothers you-- _why, exactly?_ "

"Huh?"

Ted was quiet for a minute, before he smiled and nodded his head in understanding. "Oh... I get it."

" _What?_ " Brian stopped moving, wondering what Ted was getting at.

"You want to know why a guy -- _like_ _ **me**_ \-- would want to get married to a guy -- _like_ _ **Blake**_. You want to know if I'm just playin' dress up, as if I like the continual headaches of planning my own wedding and the whole marriage bit."

"C'mon, Theodore... _**Blake?**_ " Brian knew there were better men out there, _even for Ted_.

**~~TBC...**


	4. Chapter 4

 

Ted splayed two hands over the table top. "I know, I know... _both_ of our track records have been shitty, but--" He sat up in his chair, leaning on the table. "Blake and I are different, there's no denying that fact. We may not have looked perfect for each other years ago, but there's an--" He shrugged, at a loss for the right words. "I guess you could say an 'attraction'. Some unknown force drawing us together, something that's undeniable." 

"Like you two were made for each other." Brian wasn't asking, he was thinking of his own inexplicable draw to Michael.

"Yeah... maybe." Ted stood quickly, crossing his arms and pacing the floor. He wished Brian had huge floor-to-ceiling windows he could gaze out of. " _Shit... what the fuck do I know?_ "

Brian sat back, his pen going right back to his mouth. "So why the hell get hitched? Why marry one person to live with for the rest of your god-awful, sad sack of a life?" He was totally curious, because he wasn't sure why the idea was beginning to look good to his own eyes for the _only_ direction left for he and Michael's relationship to go in. Hell, he had thought it had been a good idea once, with Justin. Except _something_ had continued to nag at him that it had been a bad decision. What scared him was the similarities he was learning he shared with Ted, now that he was with Michael.

"You mean... when there's still plenty of young men to fuck out in the wide open sea of Liberty Avenue?"

Brian raised an eyebrow, the answer was obvious.

"But that's just _ **it**_ , Brian." Ted leaned on an empty wall that wasn't covered with some huge, disastrous art deco painting. "They will always be younger and more beautiful. A plethora of gorgeous boys to fuck, but never the other way around."

"Speak for yourself, Schmidt." Brian grumbled, thinking he may have let down a vulnerable shield in front of Ted.

"None of us are getting any younger, Brian. Sooner or later old age catches up to us all."

"Fuck you."

"No, Brian... even for you." Ted was growing confident. He had started to see truth-telling cracks in Brian's mega-egotistical veneer. "Tell me something..."

"What?"

"Are you happiest with... or without?"

"What are you going on about now?"

"Please, I might be occupied with my own life, but I'm not blind."

"You asking about Michael?" Brian didn't know why he got quiet or why he let so much emotion show in his face.

"Am I?" Ted took a different seat at the table.

"Don't even go there." Brian began picking up his stuff to make his way to his desk. A safe place to build his wall back up.

"Ah..." Ted nodded his head, fixing the cuffs of his shirt.

" _Now what?_ "

"I recognize what you're going through. I've been there. Right before I asked Blake to marry me."

"You..." Brian pointed to Ted, walking away. "... need to back off."

"Admit it." Ted was so ecstatic about his discovery, he eagerly followed Brian. "You're _scared_."

" **Cold.** " Brian began playing the "hot/cold" game with Ted's comments.

"You're almost _frightened_ at this point, I bet."

" **Freezing.** "

"... _confused_..."

" **Frozen.** "

"... _hopelessly in love_..."

" **Iceberg.** "

"And worst... it's with your best friend in the whole world." Ted paused on his trek behind his boss, crossing his arms over his chest. “Like I told you, just like I was.” He nodded his head as he was figuring everything out slowly in his head.

Brian huffed, forcibly pushing about his desk chair with his foot. "I'll never be 'just like' anyone. Especially you, Theodore. You're one of a fucked-up kind."

Ted couldn't help the smirk that slipped out. "It's okay to be normal, like everyone else, Brian."

"I suggest..." Brian pushed back his chair and sat down. "... you stop talking now."

"What? You think God has free time enough in his busy schedule to strike you down with lightning?"

"Don't make me get rude and kick you out of my office." Brian scolded as he tried to put things on his desktop in some semblance of order, needing to be busy with while Ted yammered on.

"Without Michael, I'm the closest thing to a friend you have, Kinney." Ted notice Brian attempt to compose himself with some swallowing. "If there isn't anyone to talk to, in your eyes, why not talk to yourself?" He wanted to know why Brian even bothered asking him silly questions that obviously made him sensitive to answering or even hearing Ted's answers.

"Because, more than likely, I'll become your cellmate in the mental ward."

"Misery loves company."

"I think we're done here." Brian dismissed Ted, showing his hand toward the Exit door.

Ted nodded his head, realizing what Brian was avoiding. "No... we're not. Far from it. At least, _**I**_ 'm not." He pulled up a random chair to Brian's desk, crossing his legs as if he was prepared to do the talking or hear Brian speak about whatever was really bothering him.

"What are you doing?"

"I've got all the time in the world." Ted took a look at his watch. "Well... until lunch time."

"You can stay as long as you want, but I don't have to acknowledge your presence." Brian pretended as if he was interested in opening up his laptop and getting down to some work he had been stalling on.

"That's swell with me. Isn't like I haven't done this run-around with you before. I had a gut instinct you might find one way or another to chew my ass out over the note I sent Michael..."

Brian slowly typed on his keyboard, the screens changing colors on his face. He couldn't help paying attention to Ted as he waited for his windows to boot up.

"... curse and tease me all you want, but you know I was perfectly in my own rights."

Brian's eyebrow lifted at the glib comment. Had he continually underestimated Ted these past few years? Were they more alike than he even wanted to admit? Was there somewhere deep inside, where he was actually envious of Ted at this very moment? He sighed heavily, afraid to show Ted signs he was paying attention. He sat back in his chair, locking fingers over his belly in a slouched position. "You have exactly ten minutes to impress me."

"Good... I've been practicing for weeks." Ted cocked his head in mere pleasure at winning over some of Brian's precious time. "I might have whittled this speech down to almost seven-n-a-half minutes -- _exactly_... _maybe_..."

~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~

Ted wasn't expecting warm, encompassing arms to fold about him as he sat at his desk, contemplating the near hour he had spent in Brian's office. "Not now, honey." He delicately patted the hand on his upper chest. “My boyfriend's coming by for lunch.”

" _Auch!_ " Blake flicked the back of Ted's dark head. "You're lucky I know you so well. Any other dupe would be totally queen-ing out the door." He had grabbed for Ted's dangling hand, twirling himself in a swift dance move. He plopped his backside on the edge of the desktop. “... soooo... was it a success?” He crossed one arm over his chest, keeping Ted's hand in his own.

Ted smiled, squeezing Blake's hand in response. "About as good as anybody would feel facing a flesh-eating, soul-drenching beast of lore."

"C'mon..." Blake teased. "... Brian Kinney can't be that bad."

"I've heard of Chinese tortures that were less painful."

Blake could see a difference in Ted's eyes, a certain sparkle was dulled. Ted could be reeling nervously from the moment. The poor guy looked as if he had gone eleven rounds with a heavyweight contender, pummeled by something he least expected. "Get your coat and stuff."

Ted raised a curious eyebrow. "I thought you were bringing take-out." He looked about them for some sign of food.

"I have. It's in the car." Blake pushed off from the desk, trying to pull Ted with him. "But I've suddenly got this desire to have my boyfriend all to myself."

Ted let Blake slip out of his reach, watching him pace around the front of his desk. "Oh... _why?_ " It always made him flush when Blake became this way. Carefree and... happy?

" 'Cause you totally turn me on with that whole..." Blake moved his hand over his own face. "... sad, dour, homeless, _love-me-don't-leave-me_ puppy dog face."

"Yeah..." Ted chuckled deeply, loving the slight tease to his ego. "I get that all the time." He glanced around, wondering if anyone in the office had been watching them. "Except usually it's what they're screaming at me on their way out of my condo."

Blake slid his hands into his front jean pockets, relaxing his pelvis on the desk ledge. "Lucky for you, I decided to cave into my darkest temptations."

"You... _are a freak_." Ted straightened his tie. _Was he blushing yet?_ His face sure did feel flushed by now.

"And you... _love me for it!_ " Blake had safely leaned over, offering his lips for a sweet kiss.

Ted complied, sitting up a little in his seat to comply.

"Get a room." Brian pressed the "copy" button on the Xerox machine near Ted's desk. He mumbled it in the air as he noticed the two lovebirds going in for some hot-buttered lovin' out of his peripheral vision. He turned around to face the culprits as they slowly broke apart. "You two can fuck all you want on your lunch hour, Theodore... but don't waste company time or I'll have to start charging you rent space."

Blake never turned to face Brian, his back was only viewable. He kept his eyes locked on Ted, who was glancing away in embarrassment. "At this point, you should be paying us, Brian."

"Freak shows are for Babylon and Liberty Avenue, not my place of business."

Blake nodded his head, deciding to leave. "Get ready. I'll be in the car waiting." He was ignoring Brian's sarcastic comeback.

Brian pouted, one lip out further than the other. " _What?! No retaliation? Too chicken to fight?_ "

Blake was already on his way out, his back still to Brian. "No, I just know how much you like watching my ass as I leave." He made such a drama out of his exit, the rest of the office witnessed the performance in envy.

"You... _and Schmidt?!_ " Brian tried to yell back in response before Blake was actually gone.

Blake finally turned around, winking toward Ted. "Bye, sweetcakes."

A few chuckles scattered about the office.

Brian V-ed his hands down his body, waiting for Ted to give his lovey-dovey a similar response.

All Ted had was a weak wave. "I'll be out shortly, Blake." He watched Blake stroll out defiantly, with such confidence. He wished he had balls enough to use a squirrelly endearment.

"Bye, Beefcake... uhm, I mean... Brian." Blake left after blowing a kiss in the general direction of Brian's confused features.

The Xerox beeped, shocking Brian back into action. He paced to the machine to get out his papers. "You need to keep a handle on that fiancée of yours, Theodore."

"Oh... I plan to." Ted thought how odd that was for Brian to say. _Did he really mean it? Like he took Blake's come-on seriously?_

Brian was trying to organize his copies from his originals. "I hope you know what you're doing." He didn't mean for his thoughts to be heard.

"I do." Ted found out how easily those two words rolled off his tongue. "I... really, _really_... do, Brian." He couldn't stop smiling sweetly or chuckling lightly under his breath as he watched Brian back away from him in near fear.

Brian thought he heard the sound of laughter, so he swiftly turned to look at Ted closely. He was aghast that Ted was simply transfixed on the man who had exited only ten seconds ago. "Traitor." He shook his head, saddened.

Ted only hesitated a second or two, but Brian was sure he heard something akin to, " _You'll be next_."

" _Huh?_ " Brian raised an eyebrow in question.

Ted realized he'd spoken out loud. " _What?_ "

"Did you have more witty banter to share with me?"

"Nope." Ted began to gather his things to leave.

"You sure?"

"Yup."

"Have a nice lunch." Brian walked away, slightly frustrated. Quietly flustered, but no one saw.

Nothing irked more than someone thinking they had some kind of insider information on your own emotional stability.

Ted couldn't wipe the grin off his face, so he simply hid it behind his hand. "Oh... I will."

~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~

"Am I missing _something_?"

" _Huh?_ "

"I know! Your Mom decided to finally disown Sunshine Sally and she's saving all her love for you again?"

"No." Michael chuckled, tossing Hunter a few plastic grocery bags. How had Hunter known the nickname for Justin?

"Dude, c'mon."

"C'mon and do _what?_ " Michael unlocked the front door of the house, letting everyone in. He looked back and discovered Jenny was taking her time walking up the sidewalk to get on the porch.

"Something is rotten in Denmark. Or should I say--?" Hunter squinted his eyes closer to look at Michael, in his element. He took in some of the subtle changes around the house he used to live in. There were some signs of another presence, besides Michael and his daughter. He realized he was slacking in keeping up with Michael, so he followed into the kitchen.

" _What?_ "

" _Whom?_ "

"I say again... _huh?_ " Michael took the bags from Hunter, placing them in a row on the counter.

" _Some_ _ **one**_."

" _Someone_ _ **what**_?"

Hunter leaned a hip on the counter. "All this time, I've been wondering. It's eating at me to know what could have put you in this..." He flared his hands about. "... strange euphoric psychosis. And then it dawned on me."

Michael waited patiently, gathering food to put away. "Please... feel free to diagnose me, Doc. Inform me about my life."

"I thought something might have happened while I was gone. The more I'm with you and I watch close enough, I see that it's more like... _some_ _ **one**_ has put this 'spark' in you. You've got a new man too. _Am I right?_ "

Michael thought over the question. "No. You're wrong." It was true, somewhat. Brian had always been in his life. So, yeah… _not a_ _ **new**_ _man_ \-- _an_ _ **old-new**_ _man in his life_.

" _Really?!_ " Hunter thought Michael might be trying to dodge the topic. “All the signs are there.”

" _Oh, yeah?!_ " Michael feigned excitement to mirror Hunter's mood. He popped his head out from packing the fridge. "Care to explain yourself?" He took a few condiment bottles from Hunter, then a container of milk and orange juice.

"Oh... I will." Hunter passed the perishables to Michael. Both to make the situation more comfortable and to allow Michael to see that Hunter's curiosity wasn't piqued. He could play easily into Michael's good graces, hopefully making him accidentally let the secret slip.

A digitized tone filled the walls of the kitchen.

By instinct, Hunter patted his own body down, making sure he wasn't back on alert. "Is that you, man?" He was interested to see how calm, nonchalant Michael was about the call coming into the hidden cell phone. He tilted his head, trying to place the tune. "What is that, by the way? Can't place the song?" He was certain Michael would never be "hip" to his generation of music. "Sounds... old school." And Hunter really meant "old school", like before 1986.

Michael closed the fridge door, digging into his back jean pocket. " ' **Hit The Road, Jack** '." He semi-yelled the title so Hunter wouldn't disturb him again.

Hunter put up his palms. " _Whoa, dude!_ _Shit..._ I don't need to know if you're _that_ touchy about the subject."

Michael held up his index finger, making Hunter pause in wait. " _ **Hey...**_ " He said deeply into the phone. " _ **... yeah... I know... hold on...**_ " He told the caller as he covered the speaker on the phone, using his clothes to block noise. "No, son... it's Ray Charles. It wasn't a suggestion."

Hunter nearly cooed at the ease Michael called him that particular endearment. Landed better on his ears than when Ben kept calling him "pal". "Oh, yeah. _That_ guy. The blind one." He snapped his fingers trying to come up with a name he knew. "... you know... Jamie Foxx."

"Yeah... _him_." Michael shook his head at the huge gap in generational references. "I'm gonna take this in the other room." He gestured to the cell phone he was concaving to his left lower rib.

The timing was near perfect.

As Michael exited through one doorway, escaping anyone overhearing his private conversation, Jenny entered the kitchen carrying a very light plastic bag. It held her favorite mixture of fresh fruits.

Jenny thought Hunter was approaching her to take the groceries to stuff them in her drawer in the fridge. Instead, he lifted her right off her feet, sending her airborne for a few minutes. He then sat her on the counter, next to the other bags. She was shocked that such a skinny young man could pick her up so easily, like Brian could. "… can I help you?" She took a quick bite of the green Granny apple in her hand. She chewed to disguise her nerves. She knew next to nothing about this person her father claimed was her "brother".

Hunter paused, checking to see Michael pacing in the living room. "Tell me _everything_ about your Dad. What's been going on with him?"

Jenny knew that was too broad of a subject for her to touch. "… I don' know a lot... evin' 'bout Daddy."

Hunter squinted his eyes on Jenny. "How old are you again?"

"… I'll be five in two months...”

"So 5 is the new 30?" Hunter quirked up one side of his mouth.

"… huh?" Jenny wasn't liking the smirk.

"Never mind." Hunter waved a hand in the air. "I often speak before my brain can process my thoughts."

"… eh, happens a lot 'round me?" Jenny responded on a sigh. She didn't mean to sound so… so… sarcastic. Like Brian.

"You..." Hunter shook a finger at the very precocious child. She had Brian Kinney written all over her, undercoated by a sweet, innocent Michael Novotny shell. _Damn! Was that even possible!_? "... are gonna be my new best friend."

Almost taking another bite of her delicious, juicy apple, Jenny paused to peer deeply into Hunter's devious glances.

What exactly was Hunter getting them into?

~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~

" _Okay! Okay! Okay! I give up! That's it!_ " The car pulled over, the driver killing the engine. "What's wrong with you?"

Ted realized too late that he hadn't really been paying attention, allowing Blake to carry on a conversation on his own. He was staring dazed and confused out the windshield. " _What?_ I'm sorry. I was--"

"... letting me make a complete fool of myself. You know I've had jitters, off-n-on, about this fuckin' wedding procedural planning shit, the past two weeks."

"The date does feel as if it's approaching faster every day."

"... yet you allow me to chatter on like some flaky, coked-out party boy looking for another hit to score."

"... one of the reasons why I first fell in love with you, baby."

" _What?_ " Blake couldn't believe he heard those words.

" _What? Am I not?_ "

"Do you even hear what you're saying? How it's sounding? Hell... do you even hear what _**I**_ 'm saying?"

"Yes, I'm validating everything you've said since you stopped the car."

Blake grabbed the upper rim of the steering wheel, wanting to ram his head on the curved leather. He grunted and growled, shaking his head of such violent thoughts. "We should have eloped when you brought me back here after the ski trip. We were just talking about this the other day."

"The _other_ day? May I remind you... it has been 67 days. Nearly three months since we reunited and I asked you to be my partner for life. Which, let me tell you, was much more difficult to plan than the actual wedding. Although, if you really think about this you'll discover it's not really the 'thing' we're anticipating that unravels us every time. No... it becomes the anticipation, itself, we should admit affects us."

Blake put up his hands, wondering. "Am I even in this conversation anymore?"

"Of course..." Ted went to smooth a hand down Blake's cheek, but Blake was half-way out his car door. "... sweetie? Hey, wait. Where are you--?" Ted climbed out his seat, remaining on the passenger side of the car. " _What's going on?_ " This was the first time Ted took a look around where they were parked. He hadn't seen this place before. It was positively breathtaking. " _Are we still in Pittsburgh? Are we still in Pennsylvania?_ "

Blake tucked his fingers into his jeans pockets, letting out an adorable quirky smile. "Just enough to be consider skipping out of town." He moved to the seat behind the driver, pulling out the plastic bags of food.

"You're not planning on feeding me until I feel like bursting, then kill me? Burying me where no one can find me?" Ted asked in simple curiosity.

"No." Blake chuckled at the tease, then looked up, pinpointing his eyes on Ted. "But don't do anything to tempt me." He appeared serious for only a second before he broke into another smile.

"Define 'anything'? And does it have to border 'stupid'?"

Blake couldn't remain sullen with Ted looking so cute. "C'mon, follow me."

Ted obliged, but only because he loved the twinkle in Blake's blue eyes. " _Said the murderer to the homicide victim_." He glanced about them, noticing they couldn't be more alone if they tried. They had quite a spectacular view looking down on the world. Or simply looking down on The Pitts, through some forests. "You _are_ planning on bringing me back to work today, aren't you?"

"I might be bending the rules a bit, but I figured you're owed a mere hour or two on your usual lunch break."

Ted followed discretely, hoping nobody would jump out at him to kidnap or kill him if Blake wasn't planning on either. "I feel like this place should mean something to us, but I'm not really exactly sure..." He tucked his hands in his jacket.

"Not for you or for us... _only for me_." Blake stated simply as he perched on the low, stone wall that overlooked the forestry below them.

"Oh, yeah? When you were a kid?" Funny, Blake never talked much about his youth or his past. Ted picked up his pace, heading toward the low rock-lined wall.

"No, not actually. Another rebirth, of sorts."

"During sobriety."

"You could say that." Blake sat with his feet dangling over the expanse of multi-colored woodland and greenery. "It was more like on the cusp. Some random John brought me up here. He wanted to be alone. He knew of this place. I'm not sure what his actual 'game' was, but it was pretty shitty. I was tanked, so it didn't matter much. I was going with whatever the guy wanted." Blake peeked at Ted, then turned back to go on talking. "He was an older guy... seemed fairly cool, decent... normal looking..." He stopped himself from speaking about how the man reminded him of Ted, because it certainly wasn't in looks, but simple countenance. Like he really cared about Blake. "He was a really nice guy, until I wouldn't give him what he wanted. I thought he was taking me back to his place, but he brought me here, instead." He shook his head as if he was back in the fear and danger of his life ending. "At one in the morning. I thought I was dead for sure."

"Not the greatest place for a blind date." Ted joked, realizing Blake had slipped back to that very point in time. He had walked closer, standing near Blake while he spoke, but he knew better. The past wasn't fixable. Anything and everything that continued to bring them together, keep them together... it all had to be looked upon as needing to have happened. Though regrettable, those moments were what made Blake who he was today. Ted was proud, either way.

"Though we both took a good hit of crystal... I was still getting this weird vibe off him. Like my life might be in danger if I hadn't put myself in harm's way. I feared if I didn't do what he wanted, he would've killed me or hurt me until I died slowly. I feared if I refused him, he would've found ways to hurt me, permanently."

Ted was seated beside Blake, facing the opposite way. " _So you did what he wanted?_ "

"No... I wised up. Got out of his car. Refused to get back in."

"What did he do?"

"Tried to hit me with his car." Blake shook his head. "Thank God we were both so high. He sucked at driving, kept hitting this wall and the trees behind us." He point toward the tree lined woods. "Luckily, I passed out... somewhere in these low bushes. He couldn't find me. So he gave up, drove off into the night."

Ted reached out to cover Blake's fluttering hands with his own. "I'm glad you're here and you made it."

Blake grew still, staring directly at Ted. He sighed heavily, his eyes never moving from Ted's face. "I was out for more than eighteen hours. I had a hard, difficult sobriety. Waking up to _this_ \--" He looked up at all the natural beauty around him. "I don't know. I guess what shocked me most was what I was thinking about when I woke up."

" _Which was?_ "

" _ **You**_. Probably bringing you here, doing something like this. Just... you..." Blake stated plain as the sun shining brightly on his young, enchanting features. "It's _always_ been you. _Always there, always by my side_. Even when you weren't around, you were there for me." He tapped a temple off his forehead.

Ted had no easy comeback, simply speechless. _What was this wedding doing to them? Freaking them out to the point of… hard realizations?_

Blake smiled easily, passing Ted one container of food and some plastic silverware. "It's okay. I'm here now." He shook his head slightly. He was trying to show he was back to rights, able to focus on the Now. "I can wait." He then passed over a soda.

Ted grabbed for the drink, except he wrapped his hand over Blake's, tugging slowly, bringing them closer. "Just when I think it's not possible to love you more--"

Blake had taken a bite of his salad, chomping on some dark green lettuce. "That..." He ate some more to not look so disgusting. He wiped away the salad dressing that had dripped on his chin. "... is so sweet to say. I didn't mean for you to--"

Ted didn't bother to start eating yet. "You know we don't have to go through with it."

“What?” Blake almost choked. This was not how he wanted this lunch to go. "No, I--"

Placing his food off to the side, Ted straddled the brick wall, facing Blake. "No… _you_ listen to _me,_ I'm not suggesting we _not_ get married. I'm saying -- I don't need it… the wedding or the 'Til Death Do Us Part bits. I can feel married to you… _a part of you_ … in a very simple ceremony. Or we can elope, like you said."

Blake chuckled, his dimples deep and adorable. “I'm not disagreeing with the wedding.” His blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears. He took a swig of his water bottle. "I just--I think, sometimes, we're only doing this so they'll know, you know?"

In that very second, both men had communicated as easily as they ever had or could have.

"Yeah… _isn't it sad we have to try so hard to prove our love--our commitment… to one another? Simply to get noticed or heard?_ Like they don't take us seriously." Ted stated matter-of-factly. " _Why is it always so difficult?_ "

"Well…" Blake shifted his head from one side to the other. "… it's not all bad. I tell you what, I can't wait for the day I can stand up in front of every single one of your friends, and some of your family, and confess what I love most about you." He reached out to touch Ted's cheek, watching those eyes shut at the tender sensations rolling through him.

"Me, too." Ted shook his head in fascination, the wonderment of falling deeper in love with Blake every single moment of their life together. Married or not.

"Brian will be in his element." Blake nudged Ted.

"He'll have a field day with us." Ted sighed heavily, dawning on him that he would be willing to be the brunt of another of Brian's put-downs. Or maybe to show off what he was capable of despite Brian's indifference.

Blake and Ted turned to stare at one another.

" _Were you--?_ "

" _… thinking what I was thinking?_ "

Blake was chuckling deeply as he spoke. "We can't have a wedding _only_ because of he doesn't want us to, can we?" It was almost ballsy enough to do exactly what they were thinking.

"I'd walk down that aisle _just_ to see his face."

"Me too."

It was then that they realized what the purpose of their ceremony was… and they leaned into one another to seal the agreement with a kiss.

 

**~~TBC...**


	5. Chapter 5

  
Michael was in the midst of choosing between two options for dinner when the kitchen wall phone rang. He wiped his wet hands on a dishtowel, picking up the extension. “ ‘ello?” He quickly deduced this was someone other than Brian calling. Only because Brian normally rang him on the cell. 

“ _Michael?_ ” The voice sounded emotionally strained.

Michael furrowed his brow in bewilderment. “Lindsey? Honey…” He could hear commotions in the distance going on behind her. “… what’s wrong?”

“ _Where’s Brian?_ ”

Michael proceeded to roll his eyes. Figures. He began to wonder if there would come a day when Lindsay recalled he had a functioning brain too. She didn’t have to keep pestering Brian. “Work.” _Obviously_ , Michael muttered in his head. “Have you tried his cell?” He kept the extension freehanded, tucking the piece between his chin and shoulder. The long cord allowed him to wander about the linoleum.

“ _Always goes directly to voicemail._ ” Lindsay sighed, seeming to be running out of choices.

“How ‘bout the office phones?”

“ _They told me he was in a meeting. Couldn’t be bothered._ ”

Michael paused in thought. “Have you tried leaving a message with Cynthia? Told her you needed Brian because of an emergency?” He always got through, but that was because Brian didn’t mind him interrupting.

“ _How did you--? It’s not--_ ” Lindsay was unprepared for Michael’s keen intuition.

Michael snickered, lightly. “Please, the only time you call me it’s to let me talk to Jenny. Since she’s here and it’s imperative you _only_ talk with Brian… how can I _not_ assume it’s an emergency of sorts?” He wished he had the courage to tell Lindsay off, because of all the stupid bullshit she had pulled and crap he had taken from her for Brian‘s sake. Or even just telling her how sorry he was for her bad luck and slamming the phone down in her ear. But he could sense Lindsay was spooked about something and she needed to tell someone. _Hey… why not him?_ “I am a parent too. Does this have to do with Gus?”

“ _Partly._ ” Lindsay wished she didn’t have to involve Michael in the mess, but it looked as if she had no other option. “ _How_ _ **is**_ _Jenny? I wasn’t there for her call with Mel._ ”

Michael was growing worried. “What’s wrong?” The sounds around Lindsay didn’t appear normal. “Where are you?”

Lindsay cleared her throat. “ _I’m, uh… at the police station. With Gus._ ” She took a deep breath, hearing nothing from Michael’s end. “ _He--he’s okay. They picked him up, because he was into some mischievous activity. Mel warned me Gus had been hanging out with some questionable older kids, but I never thought it’d come to this._ ”

Michael had no response except the first priority. “How is Gus?”

“ _Shaken. A little frightened, possibly. They’re letting him off with only a warning. I was at the university when they called me._ ”

Michael wasn’t absolutely sure he understood why Brian would need to get involved at this point. There was a desperation in Lindsay’s voice that told there was more to the story. He simply waited for her to feel comfortable enough, crumble like a house of cards.

Lindsay had continued to speak, nerves making her wander in her thoughts. “ _They called Mel, since she’s the parent at home, but--_ ”

Michael braced himself for the “whopper” he was about to be privy to.

“ _She’s on her final straw with Gus._ ” Lindsay paused, gathering courage to finally allow someone else into their slowly falling-apart life. She had no idea why she was hesitant to let Michael in. He always seemed a calm comfort. Maybe it was because she thought he might take Melanie’s side. Melanie being Jenny’s mother and all. But she knew some day she would have to take a chance. “ _Has, uh… Jenny said anything to you? Or… uhm, Brian?_ ”

“About _what_?” Michael played like he was oblivious. He had known something wasn’t “right” between Melanie and Lindsay for awhile. Particularly the way Brian discussed some of the times he had gone out to Toronto to visit.

Lindsay cleared her throat, wiping under her eyes. “ _You have a very respectful, brave, loving and trusting daughter, Michael. You should be proud._ ”

“I am.” Michael wasn’t swayed in the least from the topic. “Linds, what’s happened? What’s going on?”

Lindsay allowed the tears to fall, unchecked, sniffling once or twice before she responded. “ _Mel and I have…_ _ **unofficially**_ _… separated._ ”

“Linds…” Michael had an inkling, but never thought… _whoa… no wonder Gus was…_ well, this was only Michael’s opinion. Knowing Brian gave Michael insight into Gus’ demeanor, a tad. The kid must have such rage inside.

“ _Hey…_ ” Lindsay attempted to laugh lightly. She twirled the phone cord about her index finger. “ _… it’s okay. I kind of got the hint when she called me this morning to come pick up_ _ **my**_ _son…_ _ **from the police station**_ _._ ”

Michael didn’t have to imagine the type of colorful language that flowed from Melanie’s mouth. “... are _**you**_ all right?”

“ _Yes._ ” Lindsay was mildly touched at Michael’s concern. “ _At least the continual arguing every day is no more._ ”

“Where are you staying?”

“ _Hotel room. I rented it a few weeks ago when Mel kicked me out. No, wait… actually she told me to leave and take 'Brian’s son' with me._ ” Lindsay snickered, even though she knew it wasn’t very funny.

“ _Oh… my…_ ” Michael was momentarily flabbergasted. Had Brian known this and kept it secret to spare him? Was this what had Brian preoccupied, lately? Sure would explain a lot. Somehow he knew it wasn’t true. Though he did know, once Brian found out… Melanie would be back on his “shitlist”.

“ _After things cooled down, we tried again. Thought things would settle back, since Jenny was being taken care of. We could now focus on ourselves again. But it was bittersweet._ ” She shrugged, knowing that wish would never be fulfilled. “ _We had let it go for too long. It would have been nice to work our way back to being a couple again… with Gus._ ”

Michael didn’t know how much more he could take. He had figured every problem had stemmed from Jenny’s inability to cope. Now it looked as if she hadn’t been the cause of anything. Jenny was simply feeling the deterioration of her legal parents' relationship. Certainly unable to recognize her brother was slipping away just as she had. _Damn…_ these kids meant the world to him. _If only…_ “What are you going to do now?” He was willing to do anything at this point.

“ _I wanted to speak with Brian. See if he has a better solution._ ”

Michael leaned back on the kitchen counter. “This 'new job' of yours? Was there any truth to that?”

“ _Yes. It’s not a full time commitment. A good friend of mine, from college, needs some temporary help opening her art gallery. With me at her side, she’s hoping there's a chance at making quite an impression on the community she lives in. Mel thought the job was a_ _ **permanent**_ _position, closer to Toronto. She pitched a wild fit. Didn’t matter to her that it was_ _ **temporary**_ _and I’d still get a commission after the opening day. She’s certain I was planning this ahead, trying to shirk my duties toward Jenny and Gus._ ” Lindsay sighed heavily, glancing about for a place to sit, rest her feet. “One of these days, _Mel was hoping, while the kids were still young, that I would become settled in my career. And then she could begin rebuilding hers again._ ”

Michael couldn’t believe everything that had looked so perfectly put-together on the outside, fell apart so easily and quickly. What hurt was that Melanie and Lindsay hadn’t even considered including he and Brian in helping to contain their children’s lives. “Where was this friend’s of yours gallery?”

“ _Thirty miles outside of Pittsburgh. With Brian being so close, I figured he could help me out somehow… someway._ ”

Michael began to wonder what Lindsay had really wanted to ask Brian. He thought she might want some of what she usually asked… _money_. But then he realized she might even think about leaving Gus in Brian’s hands, for once. _Oh… Lord._ “How long can you hold off before you need to give your friend an answer?”

“ _She said at least by the end of the week. I wanted to call her by the end of today to catch her up to speed, but… Mel and Gus kind of threw a rock in my plans._ ”

“I wish I could help you reach Brian, honey.” Michael figured Brian was possibly ignoring the calls because they were from Lindsay, not wanting to be bothered by her now in the midst of meetings. “… there was a pretty important meeting today. Brian may have told office staff to divert every call.” He knew that Lindsay was catching on to hints that he could be of any help to her.

“ _Michael…_ ” Lindsay’s pause felt forced, as if she were at the end of her rope with no one there to catch her falling. “ _… is there any possibilities that come to your mind?_ ”

The only fact Michael was juggling was… _this phone call was a joke_. Being the “fool”, yet again. “I wish--I can’t, Lindsay.”

“ _Michael…_ ”

“No. I’m serious. Thanks for the vote of confidence, but the situation involves Gus. I love him too death, but he’s _not_ my son. I don’t claim to know everything about Brian, but what I _do_ know is he would have a real problem with me throwing ideas around for his own child’s life and welfare.”

“ _But... Michael, I--_ ” Lindsay heard the conjecture in Michael’s tone.

_Ah-ha!_ This would have been where Brian had usually gotten trapped. Suckered into Lindsay’s plans and schemes. “Right now, I have to focus on my daughter and I--” He knew he boxed himself into admitting something he didn’t believe, but he had to say it. “You know Gus is my world, like Brian is. He’s never far from my thoughts. But I can’t be bothered at the moment.” 

There was a short fractured moment of silence.

Michael had thought Lindsay hung up on him. Wouldn’t have been the first time.

“ _No, Michael. Of course. I do understand. I just--_ ”

“... consistently think of me as Brian’s 'fall guy'.. Sorry… not where Gus is concerned.”

“ _Michael…_ ”

“What?”

“ _Thank you. I’m not upset with you._ ” Lindsay was lightly giggling. She never knew Michael had that sturdy of a backbone. “ _What you said has probably been the smartest, and kindest, words anyone's said to me in months._ ”

Michael wasn’t sure how to take the compliment. “Can I ask you something?”

“ _Sure, Michael. Anything._ ”

“Whatever is going on with you and Mel, will it affect Jenny coming back to Toronto?”

“ _Oh… shit!_ ” Lindsay smacked a palm to her forehead. “ _My God, sweetie! That’s right. Jenny was coming back soon, right?_ ”

“In a week and a half.”

“ _Damn… I don’t really know. You may want to give Mel a call at the house. I’m not-_ -”

Michael closed his eyes. “My one fear is placing her back in a household already breaking apart. We, uh… I’ve been doing my best here. Jenny is better, residual things keep her from moving forward. I need to know how much of a guarantee I can get to convince me Mel can, or can’t, handle Jenny’s return.”

Lindsay wished she had an easy response. “ _Since I don’t really know my next step, I can’t very well--_ ”

“I know, I know. I just can’t risk Jenny relapsing.”

“ _I’d back out of answering your question for the same reason you gave for Gus. But, man, Jenny knows more than she lets on. If she were my daughter, Michael, and I had her fate -- as you do now -- I wouldn’t give her back to her mother, just yet._ ”

Michael sighed in relief. “This helps me a lot, Linds. I wish I--”

“ _No, don’t. I told you I completely understood. I know Brian’s wrath well. Mel and I haven’t been truthful to you and Brian. I’ve wanted to include both of you from the beginning, but I was convinced Mel and I could make it through on our own. At the cost of our childrens' happiness, the price is too high for me._ ”

Michael knew he had to reassure Lindsay. “If I see him before you reach him, I will tell Brian to call you immediately.”

“ _Do the best you can, but don’t force the issue. I left him a voicemail, and a few urgent messages with Cynthia. Hopefully, he’ll get them soon and call me right back._ ”

Michael was about ready to reveal Brian would be having dinner with he and Jenny, but that would disrupt Lindsay’s concentration at the moment. “Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”

“ _You kidding?! You calmed me down. Kept me company._ ” Lindsay lifted her head, recognizing a familiar light brown head of hair. “ _They’re bringing Gus out now. He looks…_ ” She squinted her eyes to see his face better. “ _… spooked. I’m sure he didn’t have any idea those ‘friends’ would get him into this much trouble._ ”

“Take it from me. None of us ever do.” Michael snickered, thinking back to the games Brian got him to play a part in. “Lessons learned, that’s all we can hope for.” He was about to say “g’bye” when something overcame him. “Lindsay…”

“ _Yeah?_ ”

“I _wouldn’t_ have sided with Mel.”

“ _Thank you, Michael._ ” Lindsay chuckled. “ _I liked this chat. Longest we’ve been on the phone with one another in… forever._ ”

Michael didn‘t even want to go there, but she was right. “Bye, Lindsay.”

“ _Bye, Michael._ ”

~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~

Hunter and Michael were putting the finishing touches on dinner, when a car could be heard pulling up to the house. Actually, they were bickering over what the “secret ingredient” of the sauce should be as Jenny made them aware of their ignorance.

“Brian!” Jenny suddenly abandoned her table-setting duty to make a break for the front door.

Hunter was shocked by the kid’s burst of speed. “ _Hey! Where’s she off to?_ ”

Michael feigned interest in his new snazzy spice rack. “What do you think? Basil? With a pinch of crushed black pepper?”

“Michael…” Hunter hadn’t been told to follow Jenny outside.

“ _What?_ ”

“Didn’t you see--?”

Michael turned at the right moment to catch Brian walking through the front doorway. But when no one came, he decided to join Jenny. “Well…” He began to exit the kitchen, patting Hunter’s right biceps. “… really, it’s only dinner. Let’s call bygones. Okay?” With that said, he was taking off behind his disappearing daughter.

Hunter was… _perplexed? Dumbstruck?_ He moved to stand in the kitchen/dining room entryway, relaxing on the wall. Now this ought to be interesting to watch.

After a few seconds of silence and distant noises, car door slam and high-pitched conversation… the sounds began to re-approach the house, coming through the open front door into the foyer.

Jenny was chattering away. Her arms around Brian’s neck and legs secure about Brian’s waist as he carried her back into the house. His leather briefcase dangled from a few fingers of one hand.

“ _Hey!_ Lemme have her.” Michael snickered, coming to Brian’s rescue. He took Jenny in his arms and the briefcase.

“ _Hey… you!_ ” Brian sighed, allowing an easy smile to slip out at the sweet sight of Michael and… home. He leaned down to plant a quick smooch on those waiting lips, then held up an index finger. “Be right back.”

Michael pretended he hadn’t heard. Jenny was dropped to the floor and moseyed back to the dinner table. Michael lifted the briefcase to a small desk, where he clicked the combination locks open. “ _Hard day?!_ ” He could hear the gentle close of the door, meaning Brian’s re-entry. He took out color coordinated files and set them out for later.

Brian returned with an atrociously ugly and very clingy plant in his arms. He stopped, noticing Michael’s stunned look, he rolled his eyes. “Don’t ask.”

“Did you win it in an office raffle?” Michael strolled over to take the Terracotta planter. He moved to a short table, near the front window. He situated a few items around and found a great spot for the plant in the sun.

“uh… I wish. Then maybe I wouldn’t feel so guilty thinking about flushing the piece of shit down the toilet.” Brian took off his jacket, laying it over the back of the couch.

Michael immediately walked over, making a grunt sound and properly hung the coat in the foyer. As he slipped on by, to head back to what was cooking on the stove, Brian snagged him about the waist. “ _Brian!_ ” He tried to ward off the sappy attention, but it tickled. And his ears were one of his erogenous zones. Brian knew that… _wretch_.

Brian flipped Michael around, tugging him to his chest. He sniffed around the air, then close to Michael’s smiling lips. He quirked an eyebrow, dipping to suckle at Michael’s open mouth. When he drew back, he spoke clearly. “Try… crushed red pepper... touch of basil.” He offered his own recommendation for the sauce. He tenderly touched a sore spot on Michael’s bottom lip, where it bowed.

“ _Not black pepper?_ ” Michael asked, doubting the food advice.

Brian stared intently at Michael.

“Okay. Okay…” Michael held out his hands in defeat. “Did you get the bread I asked for?”

“Yeah, but I…” Brian patted his pants for keys, thinking hard. “ _… shit!_ ” He grumbled while trying to investigate where the keys went. “Damn plant distracted me.”

“Not a problem.” Michael found the exact keys needed in the foyer. “Trunk?” He called out as he opened the front door. He strolled back in to catch Hunter’s eye.

“Yeah…” Brian sighed, leaning on the couch’s back headrest.

Michael gently petted Brian’s chest. “Told you, no problem. Hunter…” He gestured with his hand. “... come with and help me.”

Brian raised dazed and confused eyes toward the not-so-familiar young man walking past him, following Michael’s request. “Hey… uh, Hunter.” He gave a soft grin of exhaustion. “… did you cut your hair?”

“Yap.” What Hunter really wanted to say was, **“What alien pod thing ate Brian Kinney?".** Instead, he let Brian walk by him, toward the kitchen.

Jenny began chattering again, keeping Brian wide awake and using him to set the table for four people.

Hunter kept his eyes wide, not fathoming what he had witnessed seconds ago. It was like a perfected dance. A ballet, of sorts. Yin and Yang, but coordinated beyond any realm of thinking. He kept up pace with Michael’s quick trekking. “Two people to carry some measly frickin’ bread? What’s up with that?”

Michael chuckled lightly, realizing how much he truly missed the young man as a part of his daily life. "Har-har, smartass. There _is_ bread, some Italian flatbread actually." He pressed a button on the key ring to automatically open the trunk lid. “I had Brian get a few missing groceries, as well.” When Hunter came close enough, he handed some bags to him.

"Okay... 'nuff with the secret life here, Clark Kent. Tell me how you did the impossible? Then I'll shut up and leave you alone."

Michael closed the trunk, plastic bags dangling from his left hand. "What do you mean?" He relocked the entire car again.

"Taming the Shrew, man? Or, in this case, should I say 'The Beast'? A still very sexy beast, I might add."

Michael shook his head. "I haven't 'tamed' Brian."

"Hey... whatever keeps you happy and Kinney on a tight leash. But don't lie to me." Hunter was preparing to joke and kid around, but he knew he may have overstepped boundaries and hit a sore spot.

Michael stopped, turning to face Hunter head on. “I, nor anything or anyone, has ‘tamed’ Brian. And he is not ‘on a leash’. He’s here. He’s with Jenny and I because…” He sighed, throwing out an arm from his side. He could tell it no plainer than this. “… he damn-well _wants_ to be. We’re not telling everyone, but we’re here… trying to be a couple, build a life we think may last. I don’t--I want--”

“Hey. I get it. I understand. I’m one of the good people.” Hunter pressed a palm to his chest. “Remember what we look like? I’m one of the people who actually likes the bastard. You don’t have to make excuses to me. I’m curious, is all.” He dropped his shoulders, his bags falling a bit down his body. “Look, if I continue to nosy in your business… I give you my permission to kick my waif-y ass out of your house. M’kay?”

Michael quirked one side of his mouth. He knew he had missed something about Hunter and _this was it_. “It’s still _your_ house too.” He freed up a hand and wrapped an arm about the thin neck of the young man. “Thank you. Your approval means the world to me and Brian. We haven’t been able to find the right moment, you know, to let everyone else know. It’s just… been so nice on our own, getting to be together without all the… bothersome nonsense of unwarrented advice. We want this to work out more for Jenny, but it seems to have become something we’ve both been wanting all along.”

“Yeah, something told me this was the first time you used the..." Hunter tried to throw up proper "air quotes", but he was bogged down by groceries. "...‘practiced speech’ on a real victim.”

“How was it? Did I come across as too egotistical?”

“Perfect, but you should really think about puttin’ in more swear words. That often makes more of an impression than you’d think. Packs a mean one-two-punch, as well. They know you mean business.”

Michael smoothed a hand down Hunter’s cheek. “Figures you would tell me that, son. C’mon, I think dinner might burn without us.” He took off, entering the house, but leaving the door open for Hunter.

Hunter took his time, soaking in the new-ness of his surroundings. Yeah, a bit strange, but nice, like Michael said. He could definitely get used to this feeling in him about this house and the new couple in it.

Jenny was one lucky kid. Maybe he could try to worm his way back in, just to get a taste… figure out where he belonged again.

~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~

When Hunter obligingly took the offered seat set for him, at the old Novotny/Bruckner dining table, he was immediately struck by an interesting revelation.

Brian Kinney appeared as if he _knew_ he belonged. No doubts in his head about filling the important empty spot left at the head of the table. He took the lead like he had mastered the effort his entire life. There was a subtle grace to Brian’s movements, an ease as he gave Michael and Jenny equal attention. He didn’t seem preoccupied with things from the outside. Washed completely away the minute he stepped inside the doors. Weird, but it helped Hunter refocus his thoughts.

Hunter loved Ben. The older man had instantly filled the father figure position he had needed to come back to his senses. He would never admit it to Ben, but even when he was allowed to love and assimilate taking care of him and his heart, there was still a barrier wall of protection placed in the way.

For Michael, Hunter had noticed it had begun with the _I-Am-Poz-You-Are-Not_ business, but then it had seeped into a level of intelligence and even toward where Michael’s childhood income had been.

For Hunter himself, it had been because they shared a similar disease and Ben had taken him under his wing. But soon it grew into the fact that no matter if Ben agreed to adopting Hunter as his child or not, there was no biological way Hunter would ever truly be his kin. Ben seemed to fight personal battles within his own mind over that fact. Never allowing Hunter to ease his worry.

The closer they grew, the more Ben interfered with every part of his life. Of course, the HIV Poz life was more malleable than any other. At first, Hunter had pretended he didn’t care whether he lived or died. The more he realized Ben had nearly moved Heaven and Earth to show he cared, things began to change.

The weeks following had been decent, sharing their treatments and Ben teaching Hunter methods of survival. Until the one day Hunter slipped and forgot to take his regimen of medications. Ben had become irrationally enraged, calling Hunter every foul name in the book. Names Hunter had recalled his own mother using to sink him to such a low level of self esteem to be able to “trick” for her.

Hunter understood Ben’s surface anger. For Ben, every other day seemed filled with attending old friend’s funerals and saying another senseless goodbye. He didn’t want someone so young, younger than him, succumbing to this dreadful disease. So, of course, he had to be there at every turn Hunter made, watching his next moves.

By morning Ben was reborn, anger forgotten. He still had frustrations and clearly revealed them to Hunter, making his point precisely known. He never apologized for the name-calling, which grated Hunter’s nerves a bit. But he knew Ben loved him in his own way and cared, more about his health than he did.

Even when Hunter attempted a bit of normalcy… returning to high school, hanging out with friends his own age and wanting to date a cute girl… Ben still was militant about instilling certain ground rules. They always had little to do with regular teenager rules, more about his medicines and staying conscious of his need to stay healthy. Even as much as reminding Hunter he had to protect others from himself.

Hunter never told Michael how Ben was reacting to the change. He figured a few things had kept Michael mum, as well. Hunter had first thought he was the cause of Ben’s eruptive reactions, but then he had seen a truly rockin’ bitch-n-moan fest between Michael and Ben. So he didn’t take Ben’s anger so personally anymore.

Hunter knew Michael loved Ben and would do just about anything for him. So… yeah, sometimes you took the bad with the good, to know that you would never be alone. Hunter understood the reasoning, because he still held a childlike affection for his mother. Knowing that, maybe, one day he would do a good deed and he could immediately join the running as Best Son Ever. Every one of his past fallacies forgotten.

But sometimes… Ben’s anger didn’t make sense… and figuring the reasoning out seemed more work than simply dealing with the outbursts.

One factor that always off-kiltered Ben’s zen-ness was Brian Kinney. Though the guy was a consummate, conceited asshole, there was something buried underneath the pent up bravado. Something tangible that nobody was patient enough to look for. Michael saw it, even Hunter knew of its existence. And Hunter only recognized the disguised bruised ego because he was headed down that same road.

Ben _couldn’t_ see it. _Wouldn’t_ see it. _Refused to acknowledge it was there_ even when he saw it. He said a few words about it, but then acted as if he had been overlooked, puffing out his chest. He only saw Brian as one thing… _evil_. _His enemy_.

Hunter figured for a gay man who already dealt with his own judgments to hold a whole grocery list of prejudices to prejudge one individual _that_ severely… then Ben must feel doubtful about his own character. Whether Brian held that much power or not, Hunter doubted as much. But if you allowed him to have the power… well, that was your own fault. Ben would never hear that _from him_.

A few times, Hunter recalled he had some pretty awful yelling matches with Ben concerning Brian Kinney. They didn’t start out about him, but eventually they slipped toward the direction of Brian and Michael and the rest was lost. Ben’s defensive tactics were flimsy and Hunter usually came to Brian’s defense. Ben didn’t think Hunter had known Brian long enough to make those claims, thinking he was mostly sticking up for Michael’s side. But what Ben never bothered to learn was that Hunter knew Brian best, because… _it was him_ or _it could be him in a another twenty years or so_. Subsequently, Ben would become frustrated and walk away or suddenly change the subject, and not in a smooth manner.

Hunter realized too late that he had been in his own head for too long. He thought the people at the table would see this, as well. But they were caught up in their own dinner dialogue. Hunter hadn’t even taken a bite of his food, so he picked up his fork and began to dig in.

Michael caught his movement, sending a small smile his way. Letting the young man know he had seen the dazed look about him and diverted the conversation to more important topics.

Hunter shyly grinned, sipping at his drink and eyeballing Brian over his glass. Man… who would believe it, if Hunter told anybody that this table finally felt like it had a genuine “familial” feel about it? Just as a tease, he privately hoped Ben _would_ call him, simply to see what kind of freak-a-zoid he could conjure up.

Hunter put down his glass, picked up his cloth napkin to spread across his lap. He allowed the conversation to mull around him.

“… have thirty days to comply and then I’ll review them again. Think of it as a Check-In Check-Up. You know, to see if they like the job… if they like, uh, me… and if they’re willing to hack it out for the long haul.” Michael wiped his napkin over his mouth, dishing out some more noodles for Jenny. He pushed the sauce dispenser next to her plate, allowing her to measure her own serving.

Brian shook his head, breaking off another slice of flatbread and dipping it in the leftover sauce on his plate. He wasn’t sure Michael wasn’t about to create a huge mess for himself. “I wish you had gone with that employment agency I told you about. I like that you sound enthusiastic and determined about the process yourself, but are you sure you’re not going overboard?”

Hunter grinned behind a good gulp of his soda. His eyes drifted to see Michael’s reaction. If that had come from Ben… that would have sparked a fire under one teeny, perturbed ass.

Jenny shimmied in her chair. “... Daddy says… sumtimes… ‘Excess is Success’.” She smiled at Brian, mimicking his own “face” toward her for being smart-alecky.

Michael nodded his head toward his faithful daughter. He knew she was only feeding his ego. “Thank you, honey.”

Brian snickered. “Sounds like that one you used to say… ‘recess is a suck-fest’… you sure you heard your father correctly?” He was only teasing, winking toward Michael.

Jenny paused, nodding her head. “... I hurd Daddy very well... an' ‘recess’ makes no sense wit' my words.”

Hunter laughed, food nearly going down the wrong windpipe.

Three heads turned toward him.

Hunter put up a hand, taking a quick sip of his drink. “... ‘m fine. Not choking.” He chopped down a hand in refusal. “Heimlich not needed.”

Subject changed, conversation went on.

Michael poured himself some more iced tea. “Did you ask Ted if he and Blake would--?”

Brian smacked his forehead and Jenny giggled, covering her mouth. “Sorry. _Shit!_ ” He muttered, sliding the hand over his tired face. “Nope… I didn’t.” He sounded as if he was berating himself, Michael didn’t need to make one effort. “I’ll corner him tomorrow. He took a long lunch… and that meeting was a disaster from the start. The rest of my afternoon was murder.”

Hunter chuckled. “But you had time to get an ugly-ass plant?”

Michael and Jenny couldn’t stop laughing behind their napkins over their mouths, looking toward Brian as Hunter made a poignant comment.

“He’s right, Brian. Ted obviously has a vicious threat upon your very existence.”

Brian feigned laughing along with everyone while he slouched in his chair, crossing a leg over his knee. Pretty soon he would want a beer.

Michael was already up to get one for Brian and himself.

“ _That…_ ” Brian loosely gestured toward the window ledge the plant sat on. “… _atrocity_ was left on my desk with a very cryptic message from Schmidt.”

Michael returned, handing Brian the long neck of one beer and picking up the salad bowls to head to the sink. “Now… tell this to me again -- _why did Ted entrust this horrendous thing to you?_ ”

Brian stopped the rim of the beer bottle just at his bottom lip. “Before… I told you in the kitchen…” Michael wasn’t catching on. “… while we were fixing dinner… the--” He stopped because Michael’s face wasn’t registering the moment.

“I wasn't paying attention.” Michael shrugged one shoulder. “I was putting dinner on the table.”

Hunter switched his eye line toward Brian, waiting for the explosive outburst… but it never came.

“I was _right_ beside you. You looked _right_ at me.” Brian picked up he and Jenny’s plates and followed Michael as he walked on by him. He placed them in the sink, starting the dishwater with citrus soapy foam.

“You _always_ look at me when you talk. _How am I supposed to know the difference?_ ”

Hunter continued to watch Brian closely through the breakaway window seen from the dining room into the kitchen. _Was Kinney actually donning rubber gloves to do… uh, dishes? Uhm…_

Brian shook his head, his eyebrows raising in question. “Sometimes I wonder if you even know I’m in the room.”

As Michael walked on by Brian to slip more dishes and silverware in the water, he accidentally on purpose pinched him on his ass. “Oh… I know you are… _tease_ …”

“ _Ow… Michael!_ ” Brian pretended to be offended. “We have… _company!_ ” His wet hands tried to cover his delicate, _now sore_ ass cheeks.

Jenny sat still in her seat, looking across at Hunter as he stared intently. “... don’ worry… there’s more.”

Hunter was momentarily stunned by Jenny’s words. “ _Huh… wha--?_ ” He thought she meant more romantic, sexual gestures and actions between Brian and Michael.

Jenny pointed to Hunter’s dishing out of a fourth helping of noodles. “... do they feed you at yur house?”

Hunter stopped filling his plate. “Yeah… but it’s never _this_ good.” He motioned for her to send him the sauce bowl.

Double entendres weren’t just for kids anymore.

 

**~~TBC...**


	6. Chapter 6

 

"Brian…" Michael called sweetly from the hallway, peeking into his daughter's bedroom. 

"Hmm…" Brian was leaning back against the small twin bed’s headboard. One leg, the right one, was up on the bed, Jenny properly curled about his torso and her leg twined with his. His left leg was drawn up on the mattress to hold the storybook upright.

“Time to get ready, sleepyhead.” Michael cooed, strolling into the bedroom to find that Jenny’s closet exploded and her drawer had vomited all over her floor. “Brian… have some common sense and pick up after her when she does this.” He puttered about, making piles of clothes at the end of the bed.

“Hehehe…” Brian sifted through the light bangs on Jenny’s forehead. “Poor thing. She takes after me on one or two bad habits, huh?” He chuckled under his breath, using a knuckle to rub his eye of a tired twitching. “Must drive you utterly batty.” He leaned his cheek to rest on Jenny’s head and yawned.

Michael glanced at his wristwatch, then spared a look to Brian. “It’s not even eight-thirty, Kinney. You’re already ready for bed.” He tapped the foot to wake the slumbering form.

“Lemme shower before I go. I’ll be like a new sparkling fresh man.”

“I like the old you, very much. Try not to wash him away tonight… okay?” Michael turned to see Brian’s lids drifting closed. “C’mon! Git up! You’re closing Babylon tonight. You said Ted needed an extra night away.”

“Let it close on its own for once. I like where I am.” Brian cuddled Jenny closer, his head sinking. “You had a mere half-day.” He opened one eye to stare down Michael. “… could I bribe you to fill my place?”

“Any bribe from you will usually entail something sexual in nature. Not here… with Jenny. Even if she is dead asleep.”

“Mikey…” Brian softly whined, knowing Michael thought the sound was growing quite adorable.

“Brian, why don’t you change the schedule at the club, if it’s too much for you to handle? Or… if push comes to shove… hire yourself an ’acting’ manager like I'm thinking of doing.” He offered it only because he felt like he’d become somewhat of an employer/employee expert.

“Who could I possibly get that I could trust implicitly, on such short notice? Oh… and it _can’t_ be Schmidt.”

“Why not?”

“Because… his 'image' doesn’t sell Babylon.”

Michael frowned, knowing that wasn’t Brian’s real reason. “Ted’s tastes nearly border along my own. Though not as awful, sometimes. Yet… there you were willing to hand me the keys to your entire business.”

“You have a 'cool' factor Teddy doesn’t.”

“Oh, yeah? _What?_ ” Michael snickered, knowing this response would be a good one.

“Why… _**me**_ … of course.” Brian held out his only available arm to show Michael his half-laying down, half-falling asleep body.

Michael rolled his eyes, looking at the way Jenny appeared curled in Brian’s arms. He didn’t know why the vision always took his breath away, but it did and it was right at this moment. “Jenny misses you on the nights you’re away.”

Brian quirked up one eyebrow. “Funny… I would have sworn that could be _you_ in that sentence.”

“I do not.” Michael spoke louder than a whisper.

“C’mon, say it, Michael. You know you do. I won’t be pissed. And I promise not to tease... much.”

“No, I won’t and I--it’s not true.” Michael quickly picked up the pile of dirty clothes and ran off with them.

“Figures.” Brian grumbled, slowly inching his way out from under Jenny clutches. “… he’s always making me run after him these days. Peculiar… hmm… how easily I‘ll follow him too.” He decided to take the bedtime storybook with him. He pulled a light coverlet from the bottom of the bed to place over the precious little girl. He kissed her brow tenderly and brushed a few wayward curls back. “... 'night, Lady Jenny.”

Jenny was barely awake when she looked over her shoulder at Brian. “... finish 'morrow?”

“Of course. Same bed-place, same bed-channel.”

“... think he fin's his home again?” Jenny asked earnestly.

“Rudy, the Rabbit?” Brian gestured with the book under his arm. “Hey, I’m sure of it. But we’ll both have to wait to find out tomorrow night… m’kay?”

“... can we read it wit' Daddy... in yur bed?”

Brian had to think hard; he already knew the answer. Jenny had any wish she ever wanted. Well, to an extent. “Uh… sure, but you can’t stay all night.”

“I know.” Jenny sounded mildly disappointed as she grumbled. “... have fun at yur disco-ball party.” She flipped over to snuggle her pillow tight.

Brian always cringed when she called Babylon a “disco”. It was so… _dated_. It was only because she had liked the glittering disco ball hanging from the dance floor ceiling. “I’ll be home as soon as it’s over.”

“... 'night, Brian.”

Brian turned down the lights from the switch by the bedroom entrance. He left the door open partway, letting light from the hall seep in. He made his way toward the master suite, hearing Michael shuffle about inside. When he trailed in, he found Michael skittering to pick up more dirty clothes, like he was secretly trying to win a race. “And they will dare to call _me_ the 'domesticated one' of this relationship.” He saw Michael turn toward him as he sat on the bed. “Fill me in. _Does the bunny die?_ ”

“ _Huh?_ ” Michael furrowed his brow in peculiar thoughts.

“ _Rudy? Does he bite it in the end?_ Because…” Brian threw the storybook on the covers as he began to undress to head for the bathroom and shower. “… if it ends like that -- _like one of Ted’s maudlin operas_ \-- I’m stopping as of right now.” He ventured into the bathroom to turn on the water to regulate the temperature.

Michael chuckled, something curious inkling at his brain. “He lives. You can read it on your own if you don’t trust me. I _liked_ it.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Boy, you sure do have Ted on your mind. What in the world did that plant do to you?”

Brian was pulling his undershirt over his head, causing his hair to spike as the material slid over the back of his head. “That fuckin’… vine! It’s supposed to bloom -- _whenever_.” He threw his hands up in the air, exasperated and tired of trying to figure out a good enough explanation to _why… why_ _ **him**_?

“Whenever _what_?”

“ _Exactly_. And then whenever it blooms, Teddy’s wedding day will be shortly thereafter.”

“ _Good gracious!_ Is it some superstitious or religious thing?” Michael wondered if he could search its facts on the Internet tonight, while he waited for Brian to come home.

“Only Ted knows.” Brian disappeared behind the closing bathroom door. “Maybe God too.”

Michael diligently followed to pick up the line of dirty clothes to add to his growing pile. He had to find things to occupy his time tonight. The time he waited for Brian to come home from Babylon. Lately, he wasn’t liking the hours. Because as good a hard worker Brian was, even when the club closed at two, he never got home until almost four. Michael wasn’t fearing Brian was busy with other things. It always seemed, on the nights Brian took the closing shifts, Michael was the most horny. But this was an off night; Ted would have closed. _Eh, still..._ Michael wasn't happy, either way. Lucky for him, a busy life and a house full of family... except when all Michael could think about was getting Brian into their bed.

Brian would burst to know this fact, but Michael wasn’t sure he could let him know when he was ready to leave and walk out the door. So… Michael did _busy_ work -- nonsensical things that ate up his brain and train of thought.

Now, if only he could make Brian stay away from him…

Spicy cologne, sinewy muscles, the slope of a pale neck... freshly showered, the soap's scent blending with skin musk... shaving cream, rough bristles scraping skin and _uh, whoa_ … hair pomade, running delicate fingers through soft locks of dark brown… and the clothes… the soft silks, satins… the warmth of a moist body… and crisp shoes… tap, tapping…

Yeah, if only Michael's brain didn't work so well without Brian around… _crap…_

~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~

Brian didn’t know exactly how or understand why when he came out of the shower, Michael had disappeared on him. He had wrapped a big, fluffy towel about his waist, using a medium hand towel to scrub at his wet hair. He assumed Michael would come in, do some last minute bedtime tasks. Like brushing his teeth, flossing… shaving… _uhm, something._ Not totally vanishing without one word.

_Weird_ . Not _crazy, oddball cat-lady weird_ , but enough of a jarring to Brian that he wondered if something wasn’t bothering Michael. He had become a little _wonky_ after dinner, when Ted had called to ask Brian to cover for his shift tonight.  


Usually Michael would spend this fleeting time chatting with Brian, helping him pick out one or two pieces of clothing to fill out the proper outfit for a club owner. They were fun times for Brian, simply discussing every day nonsense with Michael. He felt… wrong. If he missed those opportunities to grab every minute with Michael. 

_Ugh… work… Babylon. Dirty… stinky… smelly… loud… smoky… sweaty dance club._

Brian knew that someone, somewhere, was having one big meanie chuckle on him. When did he ever think he would come to a point where he thought going to Babylon was actual “work”? Like going to a tedious, peon job, wiling away useless tine with menial… _eesh_ … work tasks. Without Michael there to enjoy the moments with him and share in the experiences, what was the point to it all?

Figures, Ted would be satisfied with being right. Liberty Avenue was growing younger and more beautiful, but also more superficial. In no more than five years, their usual haunts had drastically changed. Some not for the better. It was scary to think what one more year would do to their whole generation?

Brian wandered over to his dresser on a heavy sigh, a cool titanium strap of his watch tightened about his wrist. He suddenly paused, glancing toward the shared closet. Moving slightly to step closer, he reached out to smooth a hand over his own clothes. The wooden hangers hung off a door hook, perfect height for Brian’s eye sight to catch.

Before Michael had run into hiding, he had gone and chosen a few things for Brian to look over, as suggestions for his outfit, complimenting his “mood” of the evening. Brian was speechless in moments where he knew Michael showed a simple care of him. The kind, sensitive touch which generally would make Brian wish that the someone who made the effort was right there to show his appreciation. Sucked, really.

He choked on a swallow, finding that if he shut his eyes he could feel the warm fingertips caressing his cooling skin. Michael would've stood behind him making sure the shirt would fit, sculpting Brian’s muscles, tucking in the excess material in his trousers. Brian almost made himself so sickeningly hot, he could barely stand the texture of the material on him. But then… the way this simple gesture made him feel… he was touched and felt adored.

Love wasn’t meaty enough a word to explain how he felt toward Michael in these moments.

He reluctantly put on the rest of his clothes, then followed the usual mode of dress for his club attire. He strolled back over to his dresser, opening the second drawer. Inside sat a sock organizer Michael had purchased on a whim to be anal. Brian actually liked it, because it had a loose board underneath to store secrets in.

Way back when, as Brian was slowly moving into Michael’s house and Ben was moving out, he went investigating. Okay… _snooping_. Ben had exited quickly, making the transition smooth. He had told Michael if there was anything of _his_ left, it was on purpose and to throw it in the garbage. What room used to be Ben’s “office” or writing room, Brian had found an entire shelf of journals. Some were blank; those, save one, he had given to Jenny. Others were Ben’s attempts at jotting down literary possibilities. Some of the filled journals were mildly invigorating, others were exceedingly yawn-worthy and the rest was all basically… _shit_. No wonder Benjamin couldn’t sell another novel; he had depleted his talents inside one book. Like a, uh… _one trick pony_. Brian liked knowing that very, _very_ interesting fact.

Brian wasn't sure why he just didn’t set fire to the whole stack, watching the gilded pages flutter to cinder. He pretty much hung on to them because they made him laugh hard, made him feel better about himself and were great cures for insomnia, as a general rule. But one of Ben’s journals was a tad intriguing than the others. _Well…_ Brian had been tantalized by the minimalist prose, having continued to turn the pages to peruse the rest of the writing.

If he didn’t know any better, Brian thought Ben had been attempting to write something fictional about Michael. And possibly… the addition of _The Professor_ in his life too. Brian hadn’t been fooled by the name changes, the physical descriptions were peculiarly familiar. Not to mention some of the true-to-life facts were glaringly obvious. Brian liked this journal because he _knew_ … _he just knew_ Ben had tried to capture a snapshot world of Michael and found himself unable to finish. It told Brian an honest truth Ben tried to hide. Ben had thought he could get “in” to view Michael’s life in a microscope. Crack through his soul and figure him out. But Ben had failed. _Why exactly?_

Though Michael had loved Ben, Brian had surmised that his heart had truly been given away before Ben arrived on scene. Unfortunately, Michael hadn’t been the _keeper_ of his own heart for quite some time. Brian had known it all along. In fact, he was that _very keeper_. Ben had suddenly discovered this fact, realizing he wasn’t able to put a proper ending to the “fictional” story he tried to begin. He had ended up becoming his own worst enemy, blaming others for his own downfall and losses.

Poor guy. Never had a chance. Brian almost felt sorry for Ben… _well, uh, almost_.

Brian did have something to thank Ben for. He had vanished easily enough to allow Brian back in, able to find his rightful place again. And leaving _this_ \-- _written record_ of what had gone on during Ben's relationship with Michael was more of an added bonus… especially since the ending had been left wide open.

Brian knew how to fill in the leftover blanks. He had dabbled a bit with writing on some of the pages afterward. What he enjoyed most was re-writing Ben and Michael’s history, placing his own sarcastic and witty comments in between the previously written prose. But then in the empty pages following, he had started the final chapters. Well, not final- _final_ … but final enough where people would know Michael and his… _uhm, companion_ would end their years full of life and pleasure somewhere together, relaxing and loving until their eventual deaths. But of course, there was a huge gap Brian left bare to fill in… when he felt like it.

The other journal had been one of the empty ones. Brian had decided since he had chosen to rid himself of the one thing keeping him separated from Michael… he would jot down those plans he had been churning out. Get them on paper so he could free his mind for more important endeavors.

Brian took out both journals, stacking them one on top of the other. He finished completing his outfit. Grabbing the two books, he made a last trip to look in on Jenny, then trudged downstairs to stuff them in the briefcase he was bringing with him tonight. He needed something distracting to wile away the long hours at Babylon in his office.

As Brian took two steps at a time, he hadn’t heard one peep of noise. “ _Michael?!_ I’m leaving. Heading out the door. Hey, Mich…” He stopped, realizing how quiet the first floor seemed. _Where the hell had Michael gone?_ If he paused, turning his ear slightly, he could faintly hear the washing machine chug along. “Don’t you wanna…” He knew he should be heading in the other direction, but he was too damn curious to what was wrong with Michael. “… say goodbye?” He stopped at the side of the refrigerator, catching sight of Michael in the laundry room. “Hey… I was calling--” He noticed Michael seemed flushed, perspiring more than he should be.

Michael couldn’t look directly at Brian. “G’bye.” He tightened his lips and tried to occupy himself with a task.

“Michael… _are you all right?_ ” Brian set down his briefcase, making his way toward Michael in the doorway.

Michael put a palm out to stop him. “ _Whoa!_ Lemme through…” He swiped a forearm across his brow, smiling weakly as he shuffled over to open the fridge door. He bent to look for something. Not finding what he wanted, he opened the freezer. He stuck his face inside, sighing and staying for a poorly extended time. “See you in the morning.” He tried to move away, without being caught.

Brian grabbed his biceps, pulling him close. “Michael… don’t do this to me. Not now.”

“ _What?_ ” Michael closed his eyes, not able to control his shivering. “I’m fine. Go. Leave. I’ll be fine.”

Brian merely reached out a hand to cup and pet Michael’s jaw line. “No… you’re not.”

“Brian, _please_ … let it alone. I’m serious.” Michael tried to get Brian to let him go. “Once you’re gone… _**POOF!!**_ It'll be like I’m cured.” He felt Brian draw him flush with his chest. “ _… no… don’t…_ ” He silently begged for mercy. _Why couldn’t Brian simply walk out the door?_

Brian smiled down at Michael. “Liar.” Now he could tell exactly what was wrong with him.

Michael slammed the freezer door closed, causing the entire appliance to shake. A few magnets slid down at the force. “Leave.Now. Or I won’t be responsible for--”

Brian dodged Michael’s need to leave, blocking his body. “ _For what?_ ”

_Damn… why did Brian have to smell so scrumptious?_ Way-too good to pass up a taste of… 

Michael released a low guttural moan in his belly. Reaching up he grabbed the poor excuse for a collar on Brian’s shirt and shoved him back against the fridge surface. “… makin’ you much later than you wanna be.” Pinning Brian’s elbows to the chrome finish, Michael began to attack slowly, sinking toward Brian’s open mouth of shock.

“ _Oh… God…_ ” Brian panted, taking the forceful kiss. Not because Michael was hurting him, but because… _lord…_ Michael was too damn good at this -- rough and so, so ready. “ _Why? Why… now?_ ”

Michael released Brian, though Brian still remained on the fridge as if he was locked in one position. He reached up to cup Brian’s face, controlling the motions of one kiss after another… messier and naughtier… tongue and lips smacking. “I dunno. It hits me. Like a firecracker.” He tried to regulate his breathing until it began to match Brian’s heavy intakes. “At the oddest of times, too.”

“ _Really?_ ” Brian found that by watching Michael he could control his breathing. He tentatively reached out to grip Michael’s clothing, tugging on the material. He wanted it all off… naked skin next to his. “Make a list. For me. Put it on the fridge.” _That’s where everything else ended up._ At one point, Brian went weak, limply falling against the fridge. He was giving control to Michael. Whatever he wanted, he would do. Quick and fast or slow and steady -- just… he wanted fingers on flesh.

Michael giggled as they both slid down the surface of the chrome fridge, knocking most of everything on the floor. Magnets, photographs and drawings… grocery lists and coupons… littered under them. He shook his head. “You don’t even have to do much. I got a stiff one the other day by watching you change the channel with the remote.” He leaned over to press Brian down on the linoleum, his mouth above Brian’s, breathes mingling. The blended scents of soap and cologne and minty breath made Michael bonkers. “ _Man!_ It would be so easy to let you have me right here--” He pumped and gyrated against Brian’s pelvis.

“ _Jesus…_ not complaining, but what’s fuckin’ stopping’ you?” Brian adjusted their bodies, moving to cup Michael’s hips and ass cheeks. He was trying to get Michael to chose one pace. Brian knew he would cum any minute if Michael kept softly pounding against him. “ _Oh, God… Michael…_ ” He nearly felt the powerful surge and momentarily went blind. He arched into the feeling, under Michael’s quirky, frenzied ministrations. He was there… _almost there_ … _hold on_ …

“ _NO!_ ” Michael backed away, shaking his head. “… no… you gotta go. Brian, you’ll be so late.” He whined, silently wanting Brian to make a decision. He should have just left. Funny, he spoke of Brian leaving, but he wouldn’t move to let him up.

“Oh… Michael… no wh--” Brian was confused. “C’mon, all you hafta do for me… is jerk it… unzip… _**pfft!!**_ _Pull it out!_ ” He mimicked the “jerking” motions required as he slid to his elbows on the floor. “… _one… two… cum to Papa._ That’s all.”

Michael frowned. “I’m not--” He sighed, resigned. “Not on _this_ floor.”

“Michael… _are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?!?_ I said-- _I’m nearly there_ \--won’t take much more to--”

“I know. So am I. But I can’t--” Just to make Brian aware Michael was as bad as him, he pressed his hardening groin to Brian’s pelvis. He leaned his forehead on the one under his, feeling the meshed sweat. “Do you know how difficult it is for me to clean this linoleum already?”

Exhausted and extremely horny, Brian lay back on the tile. “This is usually where I’m in Heaven. Now I think I’m in my own private Hell.” He drew a dramatic arm over his eyes. “ _Why do you do this to me?_ ”

Michael smiled, wiggling on top of Brian. “I tried to hide, to avoid you. But no… you _had_ to come find me. Had to come say ‘ _ **g’bye, Mikey!**_ ’… Well… screw you…”

“ _No! Screw you first!_ ” Brian waggled a finger toward Michael. He sighed, looking at the ceiling above him, counting lights and then tile blocks. “The nights I work, if I don’t see you or say something like ‘ _ **nighty-night**_ ’… my entire shift doesn’t go well. Unless I see your face one last time.”

“ _Awwww… wittle Bwian Kinney has a cwush!_ ” Michael tickled Brian on the right and left flanks, just under his armpits.

“ _Quit!_ ” Brian couldn’t not smile or snicker. “Anything is liable to set me off.” It tickled, but he was hard… growing harder. _Shit._

“ _Really?_ ” Michael lifted one eyebrow.

“Did you _not_ see my lips just move?” Brian felt tender kisses to his puffed out bottom lip and then over his chin. “Michael, if you pick up where you left off… you’ll have to finish.” He sighed, making a big drama. “It’s done. I’m over it now.”

“Liar.” Michael growled, trapping Brian’s wrists above his head on the floor. “Promise me you’ll lay still an’ let me take care of you.” On his way down, Michael murmured against Brian’s clothes. “… lemme give you a blow job that will _fuh-reak_ your mind…”

“... _oh, yippee_... God _does_ listen to unanswered prayers… and, _by golly_ , he likes me…” Brian smiled sweetly, settling back to obey. He never heard of a better offer handed to him.

“Don’t say that… I’ll go soft.” Michael joked as he began to undo Brian’s zipper.

“Michael, I’m touched.” Brian felt his skin tingle, desiring more. “Touch me… I like your touch… touching me… tongue touching me… fingers touching me… touch…”

Michael had trailed soft pressed lips down Brian’s chest, having unbuttoned him slow inch by slow inch. He ended at the belted waistband. “God forbid…” He took off the belt in one swift move. The leather slapping on the tiles sounded like a whip. “… I send you to Babylon looking this disheveled.”

“Yeah, travesty. I, uh…” Brian shifted his eyes to glance down at Michael who was staring back. “I don’t get my jollies like that at Babylon anymore.”

Michael paused in his actions. “Not even in your VIP rooms?”

“Not. Even.” Brian made a mere lift of shoulder to shrug. “Makes me feel… you know… kinda dirty. Coming to you after being there, amongst _them_.”

Michael smirked. “I like you best… _dirty_ …”

Brian knew Michael wasn’t catching his point. “I like your dirty mouth best, but I--”

“ _What?_ ” Michael realized something important would follow.

Brian’s face went serious. “I wanna be 'clean' for you. From now on, being with you. I don’t want to feel dirty, _like that_ … in your arms.”

Michael became quiet, contemplative. “ ‘Clean’… meaning… ‘pure’?” His hand had gone diving into Brian’s zipper.

“Yeah…” Brian arched on a wave of euphoria, feeling vulnerable under Michael’s touch. “ _Oh, God_ … do that… twirly thing with your tongue…”

Michael silently took out Brian’s cock, gently soothing down its long length. He stroked once, bending down to play with the tip on his tongue. The way Brian liked, obviously. He perfected a few delicate moves, stroking up and down the shaft, coupling it with his mouth covering the slip-slide of pre-cum. Those words of Brian’s still in his head, he continued to suckle on the pulsating organ in his hands. Until he could feel the pressure in Brian rise -- feel the shooting semen push forth and expertly land on his cupped hand.

A kitchen towel was Velcro-ed onto the fridge door handle. Michael lifted it, yanking hard to wipe up the liquid. No fuss, no muss.

Michael came back to lay on top of Brian. His face matching Brian’s lightly perspiring one. He gently pressed lips to lips, tenderly forceful. “I’m sorry.”

Brian wrapped one weak arm about Michael’s neck. “No. _Don’t apologize_.” He couldn’t find his next breath. “I’m okay. It’s okay. This is _not_ what I meant.” He could tell Michael wasn’t assuaged of guilt. “C’mere… _please_.” He shifted to lean back on the cupboards behind his head. He patted one leg, wanting Michael to sit on his thigh.

“Lemme… I hafta zip you--” Michael’s hand hadn’t moved from Brian’s groin. “… well, tuck you back in and then zip you, but--” He dipped his face low as he also did up Brian’s shirt, taking precious care of the material and the body it inhabited. “I’m still so--I didn’t--” He wasn’t coming near Brian for fear he would want to finish his own pent-up sexual tension.

“Don’t worry.” Brian tugged Michael into his arms, fully sitting now against the cupboard doors. Michael sat crooked in his lap. He held Michael close as he tried to refocus his eyes. “ _God… damn…_ to think all this time…” He drew up a leg, clutching for Michael’s hand, twining their fingers together. “… _I never knew_.”

“ _Knew what?_ ” Michael leaned back on Brian’s chest. He loved the way their hands looked and how strong, yet soft, Brian felt behind him. He leaned his cheek on top of the dark brown hair.

Brian stretched their hands to lay palm to palm. “How fascinating it is to find out we’re evenly matched. I push, you pull. I go, you… _beg me to stay_ …” He bit at Michael’s shoulder joint, tasting the cotton shirt. “… then we’re able to switch, it ends up working. Where usually one person would grow tired, exhausted by one personality trait. It’s like we accept the differences and we can cope.” He lifted his head to stare intently at Michael. “But the way you beg with your eyes… your lips… _gawd_ … that mouth…” As he spoke, he touched each part he named. “I could kiss that mouth for hours… _lemme_ …”

Michael put a hand to Brian’s chest, holding him back. “You’re not helping either of us out any, Brian.”

“I’m not trying to do anything cruel. I just--I’m saying I understand your needs, they’re mine too. The uncontrollable lust you sense sometimes. Like you'll burst if it’s not fulfilled instantly. What’s bothering me is… _why now? Why this time?_ So many whys and no way to answer them.”

“ _Do we have to?_ I mean, _would we be in dire straits if we simply let things be what they are in the moment?_ ”

“Michael, you made me late for work because you gave me one of the best blow jobs I've ever gotten on the kitchen floor. Don’t know about you, but I _need_ some answers.”

“Point taken.” Michael wrapped both his arms about Brian’s neck, letting the face bury itself in his chest. “I liked what you said before.” He combed through the messy locks of Brian’s hair. These days if Brian didn’t have Michael he would never know what he looked like in a mirror. He really was turning into a different man. Still _his_ Brian, in _every_ way.

“... 'bout your dirty mouth?” Brian teased, prepared for the smack to his arm.

“ _No! Jerk!_ About wanting to be ‘pure‘ for me.” Michael was still amazingly stunned that in a second of orgasm… Brian could say something _that_ … _that cutting and sensitive_. “You realize _this_ … _what we did here_ … negates _both_ of us.”

“Oh… we’re allowed two second chances. See, I forgot to mention, **I** control the rules.”

“Ah, good. Then…” Michael rubbed Brian’s shoulder, down his biceps. “… when you come home, from Babylon, let’s make sure we start that second chance the minute you wake me up.”

Brian nodded his head once. “Don’t wear anything to bed.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see.” Brian smirked, loving Michael’s intrigued face at the mere possibilities. Michael wiggled his ass into Brian’s groin. “ _Whoa…_ don’t get me started.”

“No. Just give me one last image, to help me when you’re gone. Make me feel…” Michael tenderly kissed Brian’s temple, licking a sweat trail down to reach his waiting lips. “… _good_.” They meshed top lip on bottom, bottom lip on bottom as Brian massaged Michael’s back and Michael kept touching every nuance of Brian’s features. He wanted to be able to close his eyes, laying in bed and simply think his way into complete pleasure. Easy to do, but it made him feel semi-empty afterward. Because no matter how good your imagination, when you turned over… there was no one there. Only empty space. He slowly disengaged from Brian’s clutch and stood, reaching down to help Brian remain steady on his own legs.

Brian yanked Michael to him. “Wish I was staying.”

“Me too.” Michael pressed a quick peck on Brian’s cheek, simply soaking in his essence and inhaling every single scent wafting up to him. “… but think this makes Ted owe a huge favor down the line. He could be babysitting for months.”

Brian smirked, raising a single eyebrow. “Why you evil, _evil_ … little man. Glad I‘m on your side.”

Michael chuckled, hugging Brian one last time as he watched him straighten his clothing and grudgingly walk out the front door. Michael couldn’t even say the words… he simply gave Brian a small wave, unable to speak.

As Brian exited, walking backwards down the porch steps and then along the sidewalk toward the car… he thought about calling Ted and canceling the favor.

_Oh, my…_ Michael wouldn't even know what was in store for him later on tomorrow morning. Early morning, of course… couldn’t come soon enough. 

 

**~~TBC...**


	7. Chapter 7

 

  
For a man, Michael had the daintiest feet.

Brian quietly admired his most treasured possession, the person who was dearest to his heart… fulfilling his very soul. Upon entering their bedroom, he had made the choice to begin from the bottom and end up toward the top. Michael was laying in his favorite position. Half on his side, half on his stomach, with a leg drawn up. The dark raven head was buried under piles of decorative pillows. The soft puffs of breathes could be heard in deep sleep.

 _Always…_ it was the gorgeously pale skin that drew Brian closer. Delicate and succulent, he enjoyed tasting every piece of naked flesh on his teeth and tongue when he found courage enough to make his presence known. Brian had made sure he was naked, as well. No sense in pursuing a nude, slumbering lover unless you were similarly attired. He wished he could have showered to wash off any trace of club smells, but he wasn't in the mood. He simply wanted who was laying before him.

He caught a scent of vanilla… and a strong whiff of cinnamon.

Michael washed the linens in consumer flowery detergents, but those reminded him too much of home. He knew a man's bed… certainly a gay man's bed… needed to represent two sides. A place of individuality and a safety from harm, like a sanctuary. Designing a signature scent then allowed the bed to become a sacred entity where lovers worshiped one anothers' bodies and said a quiet thankfulness for the time spent. Even if it was for only a few moments of intense pleasure. The fewest of lucky ones experienced this feeling daily once they found someone to spend years living with.

Brian's bed used to need darkness and expensive sheets, just enough coldness to dis-invite any visitor to stay. He used to find his King-sized monstrosity a sanctuary, and a clear extension of his inner persona. Could be why Brian never felt comfortable in the bed, because he didn't feel quite comfortable in his own skin.

With Michael, his bed had one simple trait fulfillment. _Is it comfortable?_ Didn't matter the size, what it looked like… he simply wanted to sleep. Sleep to dream. Dream to live out his fantasies.

Early on, Brian discovered his cure for sleepless nights was curling into Michael's arms. That had become his new sanctuary. Didn't matter the linens bought to adorn the mattress. What mattered was how tightly those small arms held him. Those nimble fingers combing through his tangled hair, as if sweeping away nightmares of his mind.

Now… Brian's bed tastes were Michael's and he could care less what was put on the mattress and what always made the bed smell so inviting. As long as he found Michael somewhere within the sheets. Buried under those sweet intoxicating linens… _always waiting_. Waiting for Brian to come home to him.

Brian contemplated the thin calf, hazel eyes trailing up the tapered muscles. The dark spatters of fine hairs covered the skin leading him toward more expanses of white flesh. A kneecap… then a thigh… flattened by sleeping pressure on the mattress under him.

Brian noticed what interested him most, right now. Between the spread legs, up around the thighs… there was a hint of shadow. Coarse dark pubic hair, a limp lumpy sac and the promise of something more hidden underneath. Possibly hardening as Brian watched. Because even in Michael's dreams, he could feel Brian's presence and it was enthralling enough to make his body quiver and shook him to the core. He didn't know Brian was there, but in a bit… he will know for certain.

Brian hadn't touched the body laying down. He was only seated on the bed, leg drawn up and simply soaking up the sight of Michael… in dreamland.

The radiant warmth hit Brian as he pulled closer and closer to the powerful draw the body before him unleashed. He could no longer just look, he _has_ to touch… caress… fondle. This is what made him breathe again.

Brian slinked along the mattress, barely an inch away from Michael's curled frame. He pulled himself upward, hovering over Michael, placing one palm flat on the empty bedside next to Michael's head. He stretched out, letting his own body align with Michael's, rising and suddenly becoming powerless to the weight he needed to lay flush with the man under him.

Reaching a hand back, Michael smoothed a palm down the rough cheek coming toward his face. "Hmm… you're home early."

Brian released his body's stiffness, softly placing it on top of Michael's. "I heard this rumor -- something urgent to come home to. Needed my attention." He kissed the spot on the neck that sends Michael overboard, and licked a trail over the shoulder joint. He kissed a freckle. "Closed early. Patrons didn't know the time. Everyone was drunk or high. Bouncers come in handy on those occasions."

For some reason, Brian was able to push his lust back, something else moved to the forefront. Not that he no longer wanted Michael – it was that he knew with Michael tonight he would show him everything he has. Michael would have no doubt that Brian loves him. He would treasure every curve and bend of Michael's body. He would try to pleasure his soul, if he could manage it. Michael was the most precious thing he had in his keeping and Brian knew that soon he would be settling old debts thought buried to make sure his future by Michael's side was secure. Brian already knew Michael wouldn't budge. Michael wouldn't leave him any day. Michael was Brian's safest bet. The problem came from… _all the rest_.

Brian couldn't take any chances at losing. Not _this_ time.

Michael rolled over, opening his legs and letting Brian settle between his thighs. They were both hard… growing harder… but they were hesitant. "I thought about what you said." He tucked some hair behind Brian's ear.

"… 'bout your dirty mouth?" Brian teased again.

"Give it a rest, will you! No… that question you had about us. You know… the lust… the sexual fevers… w _hy now?_ "

" _Yeah?_ "

Hard to be curious when someone was suckling on your earlobe.

"Think I found your answer."

Brian felt the desire override his listening skills. "Later… right now, I've got more important things to finish."

Michael took the dry hump of Brian's pelvis against his as a sign of what was to happen next. "Okay… later then."

~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~

He was sure once he opened his eyes it would be over. His fantasy lover would disappear and he would be left alone, solitary. How he used to like to be. How he could no longer be… or his heart would shatter to pieces. He knew, in that minute, he would cry and possibly die from the heartache.

These days he had become familiar with having someone close, feeling someone near, knowing someone was thinking about him the way he was thinking about them.

He could hear his name being called. He felt the gentlest of touches to his cheek, his jaw and then a finger drawn along his mouth.

He knew his fantasy lover wanted him to look into his eyes, but he couldn't. Not now. It couldn't be over yet.

He smelled the scent. _His scent_. _His fantasy lover's scent_. It's there when he wakes up… when his fantasy lover's not in the bed… when he's in a room his fantasy lover's been in. It surrounded him like air. It fed him when he was lonely, screaming for affection.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't keep his eyes closed for too long or his fantasy lover would become frustrated and grow angry. Wanting the attention. Needing the fascination. Chained to the adoration.

So he allowed one lid to lift, checking. Still there. Eyes shut. He opened eyes half-mast. Still there… under him… undulating… wanting more. Eyes shut. He knew now that if he fully opened his eyes this time and the fantasy lover left… he won't be able to breathe. He will die without…

"Brian…" Michael was up on his elbows, watching Brian intensely, making sure his head wasn't in the clouds. He wanted… needed him right _here_. Right _there_ with him. He soothed a palm down Brian's heaving chest.

"Huh?" Brian opened his eyes. Instant relief. Michael… his fantasy lover… is still there and caressing his heated skin. "Sorry." He buried his head in shame, nudging Michael's body in apologies he can't claim, so he used the silence. He wasn't able to admit what was rambling in his mind. Always did when they began to have sex. Especially sex like this, where it's considered making love. "I, uh… let my mind wander too far."

"Anything interesting?"

"Nope." Brian moved back a bit, knowing what Michael intended for their first position.

It wasn't needed… truly. They could go through the whole 101 Gay Sexual Positions and Brian would still be content with one. But he knew Michael liked the informal ones even less, so they are completed from the start.

So… _from behind_ … was always first. It could be the most savage or the most sensual. This time, Brian would work for both. He wanted to be inside Michael, almost hungry enough for the taste. But he liked the way Michael became once he was there, penetrating his core and riding him until he was assured of Michael's satisfaction, ejaculating once or twice on the sheets.

They've perfected this position. They don't even consider _this one_ their favorite, but they fulfill their animalistic emotions to prepare for the more pleasurable, loving ones. They could turn it into a game or they could make it subtly romantic.

Brian has the rubbers, Michael's holding the tube of lubrication. When the time was right, Michael would pour out the liquid into Brian's hand.

Brian chuckled lightly as Michael shook his ass as if he was backing into a garage. He knew Michael wanted him to grab his hips, holding them still as a guide. But… no… not now. Now was the time for foreplay. Of getting Michael as high as he could be without entering him. Brian wanted to know his edge of control. He wanted to be sure the barriers he broke down are secure enough to emerge again for another round. He requested a good dollop of lube.

Michael knew he was in for a treat. He was ready, prepared for rear entry, but Brian had other ideas… and he was willing. So beyond willing at this moment. The pressure Brian placed on Michael's back was minimal, but he sunk as fast as he had gotten up oon his knees.

Brian slid his body over Michael's leg, kisses going up the backs of his thighs and spine. There was licking, which was followed by a puff of air, making the moisture tickle. When Brian was lined up, body part for body part, he tucked a knee between Michael's legs and spread them. His rigid organ found the niche and settled comfortably, but not for Michael.

It was a terrible tease. A play on what was to come for Michael that he couldn't bear for much longer because he could feel the pulse, its heat. He felt the thickness on his skin and he knews… in a few more minutes the elongated flesh would be forced inside him, stretching until it was painful then pleasurable… and he almost couldn't wait.

But… Brian was here. He had come home to their bed and he was here. Michael would do anything… he would wait another thousand years for moments like these.

Brian never used foreplay for much longer than necessary. He could tell when Michael was ready. He had been nudged by the quivering ass cheeks calling out for him to seek his gratification. He needed a few more minutes to secure Michael under him. He knew his organ's length could hurt and he refused to do that to Michael. He widened the legs more, his palms pressed down on the mattress, underneath Michael's arms. There could be no movement from the man under him, Brian has imprisoned Michael simply by using his own body frame.

The coolness of the lubed fingers sweetly tickled. They surrounded the anus and teased. First one entered, Michael fell back. Once the first had enough, he let the second and third one join in. Each new finger caused Michael to jerk with intensity. He knew Brian was attempting to prepare him for his thickness, knowing how sore he could get afterwards.

With the lubing finished, Brian started his teasing of Michael's pliant body. Brian bit, nipped… he tasted the sweat at Michael's nape and hairline. He placed his cheek on the raven hair, lost in the softness. Better than his favorite pillow. He had been moving slowly, up and down, raising and lowering his cock along the inside of Michael's thighs. He wished he could touch Michael's cock, knowing it was as hard and leaking of precum as his was.

At hearing his name sweetly called out on a whisper of breath, Brian slid through the tight anal cavity, causing Michael to suck in air. They both wanted this since before he left for Babylon and it's beyond either of their imaginations of how the sexual action would feel. The shock of the sensation… of skin on skin… of cock drawn up… the mesh of sweaty bodies… it's almost too much.

Brian filled Michael as fully as he could, without cumming unexpectedly in the tip of the rubber. He could insert less of an inch more, but he had to stop. _God…_ he had always been able to withstand multiple orgasms, multiple times, with multiple partners. _Why was it that with Michael--why does he feel like cumming the second he was inside? Why does he feel satisfied with one fuck? Why?… why?… why…?_ No answer would enter his head because he was too involved in the moment, and he doesn't ever want to miss a thing.

Michael felt like sobbing from the pleasure. It was like nothing he had ever felt before. He hated it from behind because he loved Brian's eyes and treasured his features delicate nuances. Without being able to look at Brian's face, Michael's almost able to disbelieve this was actually _ **Brian**_. So many lovers, wishing they were Brian. But as he took the thick cock up his ass, felt the strong chest over his back and heard the whisper of his name on Brian's lips in his ears. He knew it was a dream come true and he wanted to sob… but this time not for pleasure, but _for pain_. A _good_ pain. _A nice, warm, good pain_. _Bittersweet pain_. Too long of a time to have waited for a heaven like this. He ached… as he tried to regulate his breathing.

Brian felt the hand reach behind him, catching his head, fingers tangling in his hair. He knew now… Michael wanted to change this position. He waited and they rose together. As they lifted, they move closer. Brian could penetrate harder, faster and Michael leaned backward to reach out for the headboard. His palms were flat on the wood. He pushed, checking for durability.

" _Do it._ " Michael begged, his lips dry… his mouth watering.

"Michael… no…" Brian wasn't willing to do this because he knew right now that Michael was so tight. He won't be able to take much more.

"You know you want to. I want you to. Do. It." Michael bears down, expecting the powerful rush of flesh.

Brian didn't know if he could, but for Michael… he would attempt anything once. But if Michael showed any sign of unbearable pain, he promised himself he would stop and pull out. He had to assure Michael of something before he began. Let him know he was safe and they can end this now, if he wanted. He wasn't loved for his sexual prowess. He was loved because he was… _Michael_. Dipping his head near Michael's ear, Brian tucked his face to Michael's cheek. " _I love you._ "

"I know." Michael smiled sweetly, showing Brian every inch of his trust with his body. He opened wider to take in everything Brian had to give him. As Brian slipped away, he managed to snag his jaw. "I.Love.You."

This was the declaration Brian needed to know that _everything_ was all right. That _anything_ was possible. Even someone unconditionally loving a selfish bastard like him.

Brian began slowly, pounding in one stroke… two strokes… three. Each time going deeper. He figured out a smooth rhythm, which Michael's learned quickly and their bodies moved in tandem. Their conduction was flawless… Brian modeled his frame to Michael's. His hands on Michael's, his arms along Michael's, his chest to Michael's back. Who knew who came first, but neither of them knew they were finished.

They fell back. Brian took Michael safely in his arms, holding him to his chest… his erratically beating heart nearly exploding out of his skin. He lay on his back, soaked in the pleasure of after-sex. Of still being inside Michael… pulsating and spent…

Michael doesn't move, because it had been too perfect. It was where he had wanted to be all his life. Where he knew he had belonged. If he moved, Brian would… and he didn't want to let go of Brian just yet.

Brian didn't want to close his eyes, because he feared if he did Michael will just disappear. And if that happened, Brian knew his life was over.

Brian held Michael tightly to his shivering body, Michael closed his eyes and lay content against Brian's strong, enveloping arms.

Michael didn't move a muscle, but he knew he couldn't because Brian had him – captive, in more ways than one.

~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~

"So tell me. What was it about? What I said? Uh… earlier. Pertaining to that… _wait_ , I liked how you said it… ' _lust feve-h_ '… that overcomes us. One or the other, or both. You know, at the oddest of times."

They were both still naked, post third or fourth orgasm. They weren't keeping track or watching the time. They had catnapped during the in between minutes. This was the precious time they knew they had for conversations, once they had been fully satisfied, ready to allow sleep to overcome them or just simple peace and quiet. Their bed was always their place for solving problems and figuring out how to make their lives better. Plus… it was really the only safe place for them to be connected and close, skin on skin, locked in their embraces. Kissing, touching, loving in plain sight.

Michael was laying on his back, light bed sheet drawn up to his waist. Brian was beside him, on his stomach, his right leg was tucked between Michael's. The skin on their biceps were touching, merely skimming. Brian was resting his cheek on a pillow. If he was hopeful enough, Michael knew pretty soon Brian would shift over to his pillows. Usually didn't matter how they started, always in the end they shared pillows, blankets, bed space. "Simple really." He shrugged as if it had been staring him directly in the eyes. "I don't know why neither of us could figure it out."

Brian leant over, near Michael's ear. "Is it kinky?" He was back on his pillow, grin stuck on his face.

Michael scrunched up his face. "No. Rather boring." Brian reached out a lazy hand to press his index finger on Michael's crinkly nose tip. He almost didn't seem bothered by the touch. "You see… I'm pretty sure when we met…"

"… _it was love at first sight_." Brian filled in the blank spot, trailing the finger down the slope of flesh under Michael's nose, tracing the full lips.

Michael laughed, grabbing Brian's hand and spreading the fingers on his bare chest. "So… it was the same for you?" His brain even amazed himself at times. " _Wow._ I actually guessed on that one." He petted Brian's hand.

Brian scooted over, knowing Michael might keep his hand for awhile. "You know, you have this thing about you. I'd call it a 'glow', but that sounds really gay. So, I'm gonna go with… 'essence'. You have a strong _essence_."

"Why… thank you. Compliments aren't required, but I'll take them nonetheless." Michael rubbed his hand up and down Brian's arm, shaping the soft muscles.

"Sorry…" Brian shook his head, tucking his face to Michael's shoulder, finally taking pillow space. Michael simply moved a bit more to his left. "… I distracted you. Go on."

Michael was patient. "Don't ask me why we waited so long to try to be together- _together_. Like a couple. It's almost like we felt the 'urge'… the want… the primal need for the other person. Before, when we tried to pursue the feelings, something prevented us from going beyond a certain point. Now that we're exclusive to one another--"

Brian lifted his head, drawing up his right arm to lay his head on top of his hand. "… when the 'urges' strike, we go for it. No holds barred." One finger began to drum on Michael's rib, caressing the soft skin.

"Yeah, but I had a better way of putting it.'

" _Oh?_ " Brian raised an eyebrow curiously.

"We are making up for lost time."

"You think either of us has come to this bed with guilt?" Brian bent to Michael's ear. "Because… _I'm not_." He ended the point with a kiss to the drying skin.

Michael shook his head, letting his head tilt left, looking across the room. "I'm not either." Why did he feel so free with his honesty? When he hadn't been in a relationship like this with Brian, he had hid this kind of stuff for years. Hmm… very peculiar.

"Good. I'm assuming I got tired of nearly driving myself bat-shit crazy, stopping from feeling the way I do about you, about us. What we have now. I thought for sure it would scare me. The unknown… the surface mundane…"

"… the freedom of safely placing your trust in another's hands." Michael supplied his own reasoning.

"Yeah, if anything, you are more aware of me these days than you ever were." Brian was fascinated by how well Michael "fit" him, in more than one way. "It's like you can almost sense what I'm about to say or do before I even think about doing it."

"… like an orchestrated symphony." Michael added.

"… or a well choreographed dance." Brian followed Michael's addition.

"In those first few days of you staying here, I thought the sex -- not just the nights you and I made love…" Michael turned on his side, sidling closer to Brian's chest. Michael's legs now sneaking for the space in between Brian's thighs. "… but sex, in general… I figured we were squeezing in nearly twenty years of unrequited sexual tension. Like we were afraid it wouldn't last. If we both wanted this relationship bad enough… it would disappear before we got to experience all that we wanted, had hoped for."

“And now?” Brian wrapped his arm secure about Michael's waist, pulling him flush with his pelvis. "What changed your mind in this new theory?"

Michael felt chilled for only a second, before he bowed his head, snuggling his entire body into Brian's blanket of flesh. He kissed the inside slope of Brian's shoulder, moving his nose along the neckline. "You." He licked, and blew on the moistness.

" _Me?! What did I do?!_ " Brian liked to sound shocked. He probably already knew, but hearing the words from Michael always assuaged the frightened emotions.

"What you keep on doing. For me. For Jenny. You're _there_ for us. Not just in the ways most dutiful parents are, but even more. You come into this house, even after a tough day at work and it's like you've left every worry at the door. You come to me in this bed and you finally see… _**me**_." Michael never lifted his head once to look at Brian's face. "Most importantly… my daughter, Jenny… you've given her an incredible outlet for her feelings. You've given her validation for emotions she's supposed to _not_ have. And you've allowed her into your life, handing her one of the most selfless, precious gifts you gave to me… your friendship."

Brian pressed a palm to the back of Michael's head, fingers caught in the tangles. "Michael, _don't_ …"

“No, let me speak.” Michael pushed away, looking over at Brian whose eyes had dropped. "Because I think too many times we've tried to respect one our spaces and be more sensitive than we ought to be. The worst thing you or I could ever do now is leave something unsaid. Or think the other person doesn't need the words to be spoken. It's important for each of us to know what we've done and what we mean to one another." He reached out to pet Brian's cheek, his thumb moving over the rough stubble.

Brian nudged into Michael's palm. "You're so much better at this stuff than I am."

Michael went back to sinking into Brian's chest, but kept his head higher on the pillow. His eyes connected with hazel depths, heads laying on the same plushness. "I had a better childhood environment than you did. My feelings weren't labeled as 'useless shit'. I had a life that cultivated being true to your feelings and becoming honest to a fault, no matter the consequences.'

Brian shut his lids, shifting slightly to mesh his forehead with Michael's, seeking solace. "Even looking back on my childhood… I envied you, immensely. I didn't really need the father bits, but what I mostly resented was losing Mom." He shook his head as if he was still trying to figure out what he did wrong, even at thirty-nine. The kisses Michael was giving him, on his skin, made it a little tolerable. "That's why I clung to Debbie more than I should have. I thought you had a great mother, until I could see for myself what the word… 'smothering' meant. But I would have given everything for Mom to treat me like Debbie treated me." Brian heaved a sigh of lost regrets he couldn't fulfill. "Took me the longest to warm up to Vic." He smiled, his heart growing soft at the mere thought of Michael's sweetheart of an uncle. "Maybe because I was what he used to be, before he got sick. _Cock of the Walk_ … struttin' like it was nobody's business what he had cooked up. And we idolized him like a freakin' rockstar." Brian felt tears pooling, opening his eyes to see Michael was similarly moved. " _God…_ _do you remember how he looked back then?_ " At Michael's smile and nod, he went on. "He was _sa-mo-hokin'_ hot!" He knew Vic was an emotional heartbreaking subject for them both to approach. So he always did… cautiously.

Michael rolled over, onto his back, loving when Brian situated his body to fit around him on his shuffle. " _Yeah!_ I'd seen him in normal clothes, every day. But then he'd go out at night and… _whoa!_ Never failed to knock me for a loop to see him dressed up in his 'party clothes'."

"Travolta in 'Saturday Night Fever'… had _nothing_ on Vic. In fact, he would have worshiped the ground Vic strutted on." Brian found himself admiring the older man more and more as he, himself, became older.

"Poor Vic." Michael chuckled, thinking back to that sad, pathetic time in their lives. "Instead, he had us two… _Vic's Boys_ , he used to call us. _The Irish Mick and The Italian_ \--"

Brian shook Michael lightly, teasing him shamelessly. " _Pony… oh gawd… The Italian Pony._ That's right… he'd wink, nudge you with his hip and say, ' _ **One day, son, you'll grow up to be a stallion**_ '. It took everything in me to not crack up laughing at your face as he said it."

Michael was lost in his own embarrassment. "Oh, yeah… _you_ can laugh. Like my nickname didn't cause me enough shame. _Sheesh. Do you remember those stories he told us?_ Those straight clubs in New York and Los Angeles… orgy VIP sections that would make your toes curl, your body shiver with chills. Somewhat like **Studio 54**... _gone abstractly wild_."

"… every one of them chock full of romper-room gay sex and an abundancy of rooms pouring with illegal drug use. Well, for those times. _Jesus…_ " Brian looked off into the distance, still marveling Vic had survived those times to tell some pretty dark secrets. "… we think Babylon was crazy."

"I know…" Michael was amazed Vic had made it out alive, sick but surviving.

Brian let his head fall to Michael's, softly pushing. "I miss him… you know." He searched for one of Michael's hands, needing to grasp his fingers, play with the digits.

"I do. More and more as I get older." Michael frowned, not sure if he felt like crying or if his heart just expanded more from feeling the intense love for his beloved uncle, who had been more of a father to him than his own. "Especially for Jenny. He would have adored her."

Brian reached over and wrapped he and Michael's own arm about Michael's waist. "Yeah, he found ways to make me proud of being my own father to Gus. He liked the kid. Sometimes I--if I'm quiet enough, and I close my eyes tight, concentrating--" He sighed, trying that exact maneuver, but failing.

"He's with us. _Always_."

" _You really believe he loved us that much?_ " Brian wasn't trying to sound doubtful, he was simply amazed the emotion had been there. Vic didn't speak it, you almost felt it or he said it in his words to you. And they didn't have to be a lot of _wordy_ -words -- just enough to make you turn your head and think, even when you thought you had thought through it all.

Michael chuckled, because this very idea had always helped him cope with the great loss upon Vic's death. " _Who do you think is watching over us now? Helping us… guiding us… getting us through our tough times?_ "

Brian dipped his head, finding a spot to rest his cheek on Michael's shoulder, squeezing the small body to his warmth. "I like that. It's a comforting thought."

"It's kept me strong. Knowing Vic would support us together, no matter what."

Brian smiled sweetly, feeling his agreement spread through his body. "Hey… do you think he had a 'might have been'?"

Michael tilted his head, his cheek landing on top of Brian's head. "Do I think Vic had a 'Michael'… to his `Brian'?" His arm came up and encircled Brian's body to his side.

"Uh, okay… sure. Don't know that I like sounding as if I were a 'textbook scenario'. But yeah, I do." Brian was actually more sure as he continued to think on the facts they already had.

"Think we may have already met him?"

“I don't know.” Brian had to recall too many faces to begin to make choices. "Before he got really sick, Vic had _a lot_ of random boyfriends."

For a minute, Michael responded with an idea in his head. "Wouldn't it be cool if we tried to look for him?"

“He could be dead.” Brian shrugged, sighing heavily. "He could have been The One who infected Vic."

Michael forgot about his freaky idea and moved on to something else. "Do you know I don't really know how Vic became infected. One day Ma just crumbled to the floor, right before me. Like she'd known the day would come."

Brian wasn't really ignoring Michael, he simply remained back with Michael's original idea. "Or he could be very much alive. He's been wondering, all this time, where Vic went. If so, did he know Vic was sick? Was he worried about him? Or did Vic break his heart too and never shared his secret? Better still… did Vic tell him and his 'Michael' rejected him, without a breadth of understanding thus breaking his hear--" He knew he had gone off on a tangent, so he lifted his head to stare down at Michael. "I _heard_ what you said."

"I know, but… _whoa… can of worms, here!_ " Michael wanted to laugh out loud. He had actually heard passion behind Brian's voice as he had spoken those scenarios. “Are you writing a novel or something?”

"No." Brian let his eyes drop to Michael's pale skin, attention to a gathering of freckles. "I leave that drivel to writers. Like you and your ex-Benjamin." He hoped that covered his slip.

"Ben is 'mine' no more." Michael made a face with minimal grief, more like… bewilderment.

" _Oh?_ _Benny found a new disciple to worship at the Altar of Pecks?_ ”

Michael cracked up laughing, his belly wiggling. He shoved at Brian's shoulder. " _Stop!_ " He wasn't bothered by the news of Ben having a "boyfriend". It was just how fast he had found a new replacement for Michael at his side. _Had Ben already been scoping out prospects?_ "I was a little stunned when Hunter told me. Mind you, I tried to play it like I had known already."

"I think you do. Or… _we_ do. Betcha it's that prissy professor friend Ben had over when we brought Jenny home a month ago. You remember?"

" _ **HIM?**_ " Michael didn't doubt it, but… _that guy?_ " _Really? You think?_ "

"Sometimes, Michael, like minds attract." Which wasn't a very good example for them. "Hey, they probably find special time to stroke one anothers'… uh, _egos_." Brian winked in a very special tease to show Michael he knew Ben's taste in men seemed to be getting worse.

Michael rolled his eyes and tried to figure something out. "He was so-so--"

" _Puffy? Poofy? Stuffy?_ " Brian thought about more adjectives.

Michael looked into Brian's face, searching for something. "He did wear a lot of wool."

"He owned a Lexus SUV. He might own his own herd of sheep."

Michael shoved Brian, trying to sit up against his pillows. "Have you ever been with someone long enough that after you leave them, you attempt to compare yourself to their new… _interest_?"

Michael was never one to assume Brian considered Justin anything close to a _serious_ relationship. He knew Brian used it in these circumstances as his best, most recent example of what resembled a relationship in his eyes. And Michael wasn't offended. He figured he owed Justin a few “thank you-s”, just--he wished Justin _hadn't_ been there. Been there and stolen so many special moments he wished he could have been there for Brian. If anything, Michael had tried to instill in the boy that if he wanted Brian as his "boyfriend" so badly… he had to act like one and respect Brian's heart. Unfortunately, Justin couldn't grasp that Brian had a special sticker on how to handle him with care, and patience hadn't been one of the boy's strongest virtues. He prepared himself for a few minutes of hearing Justin's name.

"Justin… with The Fiddler. That was enough to confuse me." Brian knew Justin was a sore subject between them. He had grown to wanting to talk about his years with the young man more with Michael. Only so he could tell Michael how he wanted to do things _differently_ and not fuck up so badly. But… Justin was a no-no word he treaded on lightly.

Michael slunk out of Brian's reach, drawing his knees up to his chest. The sheet still covering his lower limbs. "I heard through the grapevine that David actually went back to his wife. He tried to work it out with her, for Hank's sake."

Brian was a tad thankful, yet… stunned. "You made a misguided straight man, who tried to be gay for more than seven years… go 'straight' again? _Whoa…_ you win this round."

Michael simply stared at Brian, until he lowered his silly grin. "Think Justin found someone new?"

"Don't know, don't care. I hope so, though." Brian shifted, knowing for the few minutes of Justin's name being uttered, he couldn't touch Michael. So he sat up against his own pillows, a few inches from Michael's side. He kept his hand on the mattress between them, hoping Michael would subtly scoot over to touch him. He could wait… _maybe_ … "The last thing I want…" He shut his eyes, letting his head rest on the headboard, looking up at the canopy portion of the bed frame. "… is him coming back and thinking he can simply begin again with me."

Michael was taken aback by the conviction behind Brian's voice. He could almost believe Brian was fully over Justin. He followed Brian's move of leaning back on the headboard, then turned his head to stare over at Brian, who could feel his eyes burning into him.

Brian put out a hand. “I know very well that _ **I**_ _wouldn't_. I'm with somebody else."

Michael realized he was too quiet, too serious. Possibly scaring Brian. He couldn't do this, in their bed. "Oh… _who?_ "

" _oh, har-har..._ you are so… _not_ funny." Brian tried not to laugh, even at his own fallacies.

"But you laughed." Michael sent Brian a sweet smile of reassurance. “I heard you.”

Brian slid over, on his knees. He seated himself in front of Michael. "Michael… look at me." He caught the tip of Michael's chin, forcing him to look in his eyes. " _ **I.Wouldn't.**_ "

Michael didn't move to hold Brian, he felt how he always felt hearing about Justin and the life that Brian could have had without him. "I know. I heard you before."

Brian wasn't going to move his eyes from Michael's gaze. It was the only way for Michael to know he was telling a truth. Eyes… he knew how much Michael loved his eyes. "I need to know that you believe me. I'm not straying. Ever. You've got me trained too well." He tried to tease, but it wasn't making Michael become any happier.

" _Man!_ " Michael let his arms fall to the bed in mild frustration. " _Not you, too!_ I wish I didn't have to hear all these dog scenario words and analogies… _tamed, trained, on a tight leash, straying_ … in accordance with _**you**_!"

Brian heard the way Michael attempted to stick up for his reputation, loving the way his anger could work. Being pissed at Brian, yet still protective with everything in him. Even in simple word placement. "Well… it figures. They already think you've followed me for years like a _puppy dog_."

Michael's unbent his knees, his legs pushing at Brian's body. "You are _here_ …" He pounded a fist on the mattress. "… by your own free will."

" _Free will? What's that?_ " Brian taunted, a side of his mouth lifting in a tease. He pulled the sheet over his body, moving his legs to lay along Michael's and on top of them. He was hovering over the small frame. He was being allowed back in Michael's realm. He liked these moments, the push-n-pull of Michael's emotions… frustrations and desires. He swung his body down, fully on top of Michael, palms on either side of Michael's arms. He felt the hands clench his hips, keeping him close and closer.

"Okay… I don't doubt you won't stray from me, but can you, at least, stop referring to yourself like a dog?"

"Yes, Michael." Brian dipped low to press a tender kiss to Michael's hairline, beginning a trail along the side of his face, coming up around his jaw, ending at the chin… desperately wanting the lips again…

Michael was keen to Brian deepest needs… and kept his mouth out of reach.

 _Oooo_ , _clever..._ Brian thought to himself, _two could play at this game_ . He took his left index finger, starting from the dip in Michael's throat, tracing an imaginary curvy line. It sloped down the upper torso, around a pert nipple, up and down the middle of his ribcage, settling around his abdomen, then curling and twisting the light hairs leading down into the crest of dark pubic hair.

"I'll agree…" Brian knew if he glanced into Michael's face the dark brown eyes would look almost black. Pleasure was awesome on Michael's handsome features. Licking a circumference of the exposed nipple and teasing the tip, he lightly blew. "… if you accept my promise…"

Michael lifted up, face hidden in Brian's tousled hair. He discovered the curve of an ear lobe and took a taste, whispering low with want. " _… Brian… yes…_ " He begged for pleasure, knowing he could get what he wanted if he just succumbed to the acceptance of an easy promise. "… do **I** have to do anything?"

Brian shook his head. He shifted, deft at grabbing both their hardening shafts, rubbing and sending friction up their bodies in sync. "Just stand around and look pretty…" He stole a kiss on Michael's open mouth. His wet lips slipping down Michael's neck, nipping and suckling the pale beauty of white skin and blue veins. "I promise…" He stuttered, his own eyes fluttering between opening and closing. His breath wafting over Michael's naked flesh. "… that if anyone… _namely the unnameable one_ … re-enters my life…" He didn't know what he had begun, but he could sense his growing want to be inside of Michael once again. "… our world… I will be the one to reveal our relationship…" He let go of Michael's cock, unable to want to speak another word. He grabbed Michael's hands, trapping the wrists on the pillow. " _Oh… gawd… I want you… again… need you…_ " He pushed once against Michael's groin, using a leg to spread Michael's thighs. "Sorry…"

"Don't be." Michael moaned, arching his neck. "I want you, too. I need you… again…" He could almost melt at the desire stewing around in him to be let out. He pretended to fight under Brian's weak trap.

"If you want… I know some cheap advertising rent space…" Brian nudged Michael's cheek, murmuring in his ear.

" _Do you know?_ "

" _What?_ "

Michael was lifting his legs, up and around Brian's waist, allowing him access. "He's not in their wedding, but he's on the guest list."

Brian was momentarily confused. _Who was_ _ **he**_ _again?_ "He's invited to Ted and Blake's nuptials?" Justin wasn't really on his mind right now. He wanted to forget that life and concentrate on the present and the future with the gorgeous man under him.

" _Yes!_ " Michael groaned out on a rise of pleasure.

"Oh…" Brian faltered against Michael's undulation against his body.

"Yeah…" Michael let out a quick breath, awkwardly reaching for a condom.

Brian took the rubber to sheath himself as quickly as he could. " _Any RSVP, yet?_ " He really wished they would both shut up.

"Ted hasn't said. I haven't asked. Not on my mind."

"Mine either. Ted would love to rub it in my face. No doubt."

"Yeah… so… you might have to keep that promise…" Michael begged this time with his eyes, reaching up to bite at Brian's skin above him, licking the sweat.

"Oh… I will." Swiftly, Brian entered Michael. "… _I will_." He rolled once on a slide into Michael's center, allowing the small man control. Once releasing Michael's wrists he reached back, fingertips on the wooden headboard. He was relieved when Michael didn't rise above him, riding out the euphoria and plunging down savagely on his hardening cock. He moved one hand, palm down to place gentle pressure on Michael's gyrating hips, fingers scraping down and fondling their tight connection.

Michael squeaked against his lips, their tongues battled for dominance. He shuddered at the feel of Brian caressing him where he was penetrating. Michael never moved from his adherence to Brian's naked chest. As if sweat had power to turn to glue.

Michael lay his right cheek over Brian's heart, content with listening to the erratic pulses churning through Brian's body under his control of their position. Michael's own organ lay hard and crooked between their perspiring stomachs. "Your other hand…"

"Yeah…" Brian removed his hand from Michael's ass and did his lover's bidding. "… I'm already there."

 **~~TBC...**


	8. Chapter 8

 

Brian's head lay on Michael's upper back, he was crossways on the mattress, naked as the day he was born. One leg was bent and drawn up, the other placed straight, foot dangling over the edge of the mattress. He had been toying with the decorative head-roll pillow in his hands. 

Above his head, sculpting the entire canopy of their bed, was a fairly large circle. From four corners of that circle shot four lines. Those lines connected with the four bedposts. Above them, the thick bedposts inter-locked forming a perfect square of the bed frame. The bedroom set was unmistakably manly, but if Michael felt a bit on the flaming homo side and wished to drape gossamer panels through-n-through, the design wouldn't lose any more manliness.

Brian was contemplating the circle's center as a "bullseye" or a "goalpost" for his pseudo-football game. All he knew was he would score two points for hitting the ceiling, dead center, and lose one for veering too far in the right or left direction. And if it fell off the bed, then it was a total wipe out.

Michael lay on his stomach, his hands and arms tucked under his pillows and his faced mashed to the plush cover. He didn't mind being naked, like Brian, but he craved decency, so the light sheet covered him from waist down. He dozed on and off, bewildered how Brian could catnap so easily, still looking healthy and refreshed. When he opened his lids every so often, he saw the high toss of Brian's "football". He knew in a matter of minutes a game of one would be played. He scrunched his head more into the pillow, liking to watch Brian compete against himself.

"Oh… hey… I called Lindsay back?" Brian could sense that though Michael was exhausted, and for good reason, he was still awake. He threw the pillow up, watching as it went more to his left, then came down and almost hit him in the head.

" _And?_ " Michael was wide awake now. He moved to rest on his elbows.

"Thank you."

" _Huh?_ " Michael wasn't quite sure what Brian was thanking him for. He had been ready to tell Brian about his phone conversation with Lindsay, but he had been sidetracked.

"She mentioned she called you here." Brian tossed the pillow up again, hitting directly center. " _Score!_ " But when the pillow came down, the softness pelted Brian's groin. " _Ugh…_ " He decided to stop while he was ahead or before he really hurt himself. He placed the pillow under his arm. "You must divulge your secret to dodging Lindsay from her entanglements. And… I'm thanking you for not overstepping boundaries with Gus. I value your opinion, I still want it and I will involve you. But you respected my space."

Michael flipped over, onto his back. Brian lifted his head and now lay on Michael's upper chest. Michael brought up a hand to tousle Brian's hair, massage a bit of the scalp. The simple action was rather soothing and Brian closed his eyes. "You would do the same for me and Jenny."

Brian felt the urge hit, needing to talk more than have sex again. He wormed his way out of Michael's hand, then landed on his stomach, the head roll pillow under him in a restful position. "Jenny is hardly as difficult as Gus. Besides, it seems easier to parent Jenny. I've messed up Gus' life enough for him to think his Old Man is kind of an ass." He shrugged as if thinking this was inevitable, especially since he had felt the same way about Jack around the same age.

Michael reached out his hand, palm up, wiggling his fingers for Brian to give his hand over. "He doesn't think that."

Brian obliged, only because he hadn't touched Michael's skin in, maybe, five minutes. "You think?" He tried a smile, but found himself fascinated by the way Michael's love matched his touch, the fingertips sending affection as well as his words. "Next, I'll be buying a La-Z-Boy recliner, start to wear my most unattractive, mis-matched underwear and I'll don a ratty terry cloth robe open just enough to show a bit of wretched nakedness. I'll scratch myself in strange places while guests are in our home. Then I will tell racially offensive and sexual-orientation jokes. And I might start watching a sport, like football. Somewhere where I can yell or scream at the television, inappropriately, when my favorite team or athlete makes a mistake **I** can clearly see and do better at. You know enough anger at the TV to get my old juices flowing. Oh… and I'll need you to fetch me beers and snacks."

Michael's belly nearly ached he was laughing so hard. He sat up against the headboard, tugging Brian's hand in the process. But he wouldn't come closer. "You have worked too long in advertising. Enraged Couch Potato Kinney is not a good image to promote." He allowed their fingers to loosen, sitting back on the wood.

"How do _you_ think Gus sees me? His Pappy?" Brian sat up himself, putting needed distance between him and Michael's skin. He was tempted to seek it out again, but he would let Michael rest. He drew his legs tightly to his body, never realizing he gave Michael a peek-a-boo view of his pubic area. He kept the pillow strategically placed.

Michael chuckled, shaking his head. "Maybe like with Jenny and me. How they totally and completely love their mothers… but agonizingly ache to know their fathers, as they have never been given a chance."

"What do you think we did to piss _them_ off?" Brian liked these discussions. It gave him a clearer insight to Michael's working mind, how smart he had become without his doing. He decided to slide backward. The bedposts concaved a bit toward where they touched the mattress. It was a comfortable niche for Brian to lean back in, and gaze toward Michael, before he pounced again.

" _Who?_ " Michael's brow crinkled in puzzlement.

"The Lesbians. Cagney and Lacey."

Michael snickered, pulling his knees up to his chest. "Well, first mark against us is the fact we have a penis." Brian gave him that, so he tossed the "football" which Michael deftly caught. He twirled it about in his two hands. "Second mark is that even though we are gay men, we still hold a responsibility for wielding our power and control over everything and the universe for centuries." He tossed the pillow back to Brian, who chuckled on his catch. Brian nodded his head in acceptance. "And third I've always seen a lesbian as kind of the 'superhero' -- uh 'super-heroine'… of women's liberation." He didn't expect the sore reaction from his audience. Brian simply threw the pillow and it hit Michael in the shoulder and bicep area. " _Ow-ch!_ No, look… they want freedom from everything male-oriented. They will totally disassociate from men completely, but will attempt to emulate them in every fashion in their relationships." He threw the pillow back at Brian. _So there…_

"And they can't because they need our sperm to procreate." Brian stopped the tossing of the football to Michael and simply held on to the pillow. Soon he would rest it on his lap, knowing Michael's eyes kept trying to drop lower.

"And our money, or at least _your_ money."

"A truth I've faced all too often." Brian made a bitter face.

“Can I ask you something?” Michael reorganized a few pillows behind his back. "And, if I step over lines, you can refuse to answer."

"Ask. For you, I'm an open book." Brian displayed his arms wide, but kept the pillow on his thighs. "If I'm quiet, you'll know I don't like the question."

"Why _do_ you give Lindsay money so easily? I know you feel you have excess at times, but what if you needed that money? Some emergency funds to help out elsewhere? Then where will you be?"

Brian actually took time to think about his answer. He had been wondering, himself, what spell Lindsay had put him under the longer he was with Michael. It came so easy to say “no”, for Michael. But between Brian and Lindsay, not so easy. " _Guilt_ , maybe. There may have been different issues forcing me to hand over blank checks, but it all boiled down to guilt."

" _For what?_ "

Brian wasn't happy about admitting this, but it was as painfully honest as he could be. He always assumed Michael thought the worst of him, because people usually did. Slowly, Michael was changing that for Brian. Allowing him to speak about who he had been, knowing he wasn't that same person now or ever again. "Look, I may have been a cold-hearted pissy bastard, but I knew she _liked_ me. I wasn't blind. I knew she had a _crush_ on me from the beginning. She was confused about her sexuality. I heard about a boyfriend in high school, but she… uh, she was finding herself strangely attracted to women, as well." He crossed his arms over his abdomen, looking off in the distance in genuine thought. "I'm fairly certain, for Lindsay, it's not a question of sexual confusion, but more of a-- _she falls in love with someone's heart and personality, more than their sex_." He thought that was the best way to put it, for him it sounded clear. "I wasn't hard to catch. Being as promiscuous as I was, even in college, men were more my style. I was gay and attracted to men -- bottom line."

"Were you _ever_ attracted to her?" Michael could almost find himself empathizing Lindsay's plight. Unrequited love of Brian Kinney. So if that was the case, _why weren't they the best of friends?_ He didn't hate her or despise what she had with Brian, but she rubbed him the wrong way at times. Like she had some secret _hold_ over Brian that could never be spoken of and she tended to use it in her favor to control him.

"Initially, she was--she did a few things that reminded me of someone special." Brian looked at Michael under his eyes. He wasn't sure if it should be known it had been Michael Lindsay had reminded him of. Fortunately at that point in time, with Lindsay trying to test waters with him, Brian resoundingly couldn't deny his growing love for his best friend back home. Having Lindsay around, when Michael wasn't there, had kept him company in more ways than he liked knowing. "… but, alas, she didn't have the dark raven locks of the someone I adored above all others." He teased to make Michael aware he was _okay_ , _things were okay_.

"Flattering me will not change the subject." Michael flushed a little to know that while he was still at home, and Brian had been away at college, no moment ever passed where he wasn't on his mind at least once or twice.

"Okay…" Brian splayed his hands, he had to get serious or Michael would think everything he said was a total joke. "… I felt guilty about knowing how much she probably loved and wanted me. Had things been different, _had I been a weaker man in my character and confidence_ … she might have had her wish come true."

" _Would you have dated her in college? Possibly thought about a long life with her?_ Means you could have had Gus the natural way." Michael was relieved when Brian made a look of such disgust at the thought of a vagina in his fake past and future. "Well, more pleasurable than say -- jerking in a sterile cup after clinical masturbation."

"While I like knowing in that scenario, there never would have been a 'Melanie'… I'm not sure going that route I would have _had_ a son. Or maybe I would have never had a 'Gus'. And that's not something I'd like to think about, no matter how much trouble he gets in."

Michael felt his heart swell at Brian's sweet sentiment. He could see the force driving through Brian's eyes, the unfulfilled love with his own father. "The unconditional love some fathers never show their sons. A never ending forgiveness too."

Brian shook his head. "Kid never had a chance with Brian Kinney as his Pop."

"You think sucking at life is in the genes? The DNA makeup?"

"I haven't had my son as a steady constant in my life. I have yet to become a treacherous influence on him that Mel's been dreading for years. Still, he manages to always end up doing something wrong in someone's eyes."

Michael realized Brian had simply deduced that anything, or anyone, within a radius of his keeping was doomed to fail. He scooted to his knees, crawling toward the corner bedpost Brian was hunched upon. He kicked open Brian's legs, sliding up the bed between his thighs. He curled into Brian's embrace, resting on his chest. He spread the blanket over them both. He had to disagree, but doing this -- he needed contact, touch with Brian. "I don't think this is something Gus can control, Brian."

"What do you mean?" Brian rubbed the back of his hand over Michael's darkening stubble. He saw the nudge for attention, moving forward to lean his face on the side of Michael's head, inhaling his shampoo.

Michael loved the tease to his earlobe. "Don't know, exactly. From what I could tell from Lindsay, it's as if Gus has absorbed your traits. The older he becomes, he's beginning to look like you… talk like you. Like he's mimicking your 'Kinney-ness', because it's who he is."

Brian brought his head back, looking at Michael. "And this can be bad _because_?"

"Drives Mel up a pole. I bet she thought she could rid herself of you, gain control. But she can't. She never had it. That's not something she takes lightly." Michael could speak from experience. The confrontations between he and Melanie had proven this to no fault.

Brian took a long pause, leaning his chin on Michael's shoulder, holding him closer. "Has she hurt Gus?"

Michael knew what Brian couldn't ask, point blank. "Oh… no… never. _Never physically_. If I heard correctly, Gus is being selfishly punished for simply who his father is and who he is becoming."

Brian turned his cheek to rest on the protruding bone. " _… shit…_ " He shut his eyes, wishing he could have changed things sooner. Gus hadn't seemed this bad when he was there for his birthday. Of course Brian had been focused on Jenny at the time, but… _damn…_ "Great… she's given him more ammunition to hate me."

“No. I don't think she did.” Michael reached out to cup Brian's biceps, soothing the skin. "The 'trouble' Gus pulled sounds like it's his fist attempt at a cry for help. Maybe he saw what we did for Jenny to get her out and sane. He could be lashing out for an escape. He knows he can't run away, but he knows where he wants to end up."

Brian was ashamed to look into Michael's face. Like it should have been his main priority to take care of his own child. He faced away from Michael, but still wrapped him within his arms. "He needs me… needs us… but doesn't quite know how to ask."

"Yeah… poor kid." Michael knew what Brian was trying to avoid. So he shifted, making it impossible for Brian to avoid looking directly into his face. He saw the pain and the regret, hating it existed, kept churning inside Brian's attempt to change for the better. He let a quirky smile out on his lips. "I'd say we weren't the best surrogate Mom and Pop for our kids, but… _do you think we'd screw up any worse than_ _ **they**_ _did?_ "

Brian leaned his temple on Michael's, hearing Michael's affection for Gus in his voice. It always amazed him how wide Michael's heart could expand, but he was showing Brian exactly how it could be done. "I've sucked at life, in general. How 'bout you?"

"Much the same… so…" Michael flourished his arms. "… we're perfect replacements!"

Brian let out a spurt of laughter. "Biologically, they are our children. There's nothing wrong with us _raising_ them."

"No, except the doubters who live outside these walls. They're fairly certain we fuck up everything we touch."

"Feel like proving them wrong?" Brian raised a curious eyebrow. He couldn't believe he was even contemplating taking in Gus, building this intricate family and life with Michael, actually loving it and wanting more.

"I'm always game for a good showdown."

"Then it's decided." Brian nodded his head.

"Yup… so… _when does Gus move in?_ "

Brian leaned back, not expecting Michael to offer straight away. "Where would we--?"

" _Put him?_ " Michael looked off to the side, thinking. "I don't know. There's some space in the room where the office is. I'm sure we could think about adding something on to the backyard, an outside office space for you. Give Gus the office room for his bedroom."

" _You'd do that for Gus? Open your home up that easily?_ " Brian was speechless, his heart racing. He almost didn't know what to say next.

Michael nodded, looking directly into those adoring hazel eyes. "Think Jenny will mind having her 'other' older brother here?"

“I don't really know.” Brian shrugged one shoulder. "She's still worried about going back to Toronto, if that's in play. I think she's capable of coping, if we give her the space and a chance. As long as we let her know this doesn't change things here in this house. She will always have control like she has always had." He knew Michael would like his last comment.

Michael slunk down to lean on Brian's upper torso. "Maybe it will help if we call Mel and--"

Brian was emphatically shaking his head in disagreement. "No. Something tells me now isn't a great time to bother her." Besides, Brian would probably take the phone from Michael and give Melanie Marcus a few choice words about her terrible parenting skills. "If it does come to that, I'm the one making the call."

" _When?_ "

"Give it another day or two. If all else fails, maybe by then she'll have come calling on you." Brian kissed Michael's cheek, moving it so that he was offering himself up as a seat for Michael to straddle.

Michael rose to his knees, opening his legs, one on each side of Brian's hips. The backs of his thighs on Brian's. "Well… this is a phone call I will be dreading. I'd like to put it off until… _uhm…_ infinity, _please_." He sucked in a quick take of air as he felt the fingertips sloping down his spread ass, seeking pleasure. He looped his arms about Brian's neck, crossing his wrists in a loose lock at the back of Brian's nape. The finger play was certainly causing him some instant desire that already lay buried. " _God… what is wrong with us?_ "

Brian snickered against Michael's open mouth. "We have it. Can't deny it."

"You'll need to shower and go to work in another hour or so--" Michael couldn't even dare to look at the digital clock on the night stand. Time seemed to slow for them when they began, then sped up at the awkward moments toward the end. Moments when they knew they would have to face the world outside their bedroom. "I have to… _uhhh…_ " He pushed and pulled away from Brian's tender care of him. "I'm gonna regret this in the morning, but… _God…_ I want you again, possibly need you more than before."

" _What do you want most?_ " Brian's concentration was on watching Michael come apart in his arms, but he knew their talking wasn't finished.

Michael was caught between pleasure and confusion. _Oh, yeah…_ they had been talking before this. " _Uh…_ _excluding world peace?_ " As Brian laughed against the skin on his neck, Michael arched and flexed on Brian's hands and fingers. "I want Jenny--" He realized nothing more was there. Brian's attention to him was making him focus deeper, the deeper those fingers sought satisfaction. "I want-- _that's it_." He swallowed, reaching out to grasp the bed post on either side of Brian's head. "I want her home. With me and you. This is where she belongs." He didn't know if he could withstand the emptiness any longer. "I want my daughter back in my life. I want my family. _God, yeah…_ " He pushed against Brian's groin, telling him he'd be ready soon. " _… and I want you…_ "

"I think you said that already." Brian sheepishly smiled, knowing how wild Michael was getting. Soon they would go at it again, make their way into the shower… soap each other… try to dry one another off without having sex again… then possibly wash again… and they would attempt to rest in bed.

Sleep was all relative, if what you were trying to do was make the night go by faster. But Brian and Michael always seemed to steal every second of the night, feeling robbed in daylight hours.

~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~

Michael was asleep, on his stomach, waiting for Brian to return from checking on Jenny as she had gotten up. It was nearing seven-thirty, in another twenty minutes. Michael knew Brian would be gone again for eight more hours, possibly twelve if the clients were hesitant about contract signing or the avenues Brian was willing to take them down. He didn't know how he lasted the days. Not having Brian was less painful than having him and watching him leave for work. Just work, it was only a job, but Michael ached with the loss. He thought he would be gratified to a certain degree of having Brian. Only the more they were alone--together, like they had been from early morning until sunrise, the worse the cravings became.

The "trigger effect" increased and anything was liable to set Michael off.

Michael kept his eyes closed when he heard the door open. It was quite possible that Brian had brought Jenny in with him, but he didn't feel her gentle touch, trying to wake him, nor did he hear her voice. She must be awake, remaining in her room. He listened for Brian's footsteps, crossing the carpets and the effortless way he slid to-n-fro about the room, using the slumber of Michael as a moment to gather his work clothes.

If backs could be graded, Michael would give Brian an **A-** … **A** , for the long sinewy frame and the bareness, the suppleness of his bone structure. Brian was muscular, but he didn't have to lift much or do any heavy activity to become so breathtaking and beautiful to Michael's eyes. He was born this way, never had to fight for a perfect weight. Oh… and the **-** (minus) was for… being so far away and not in bed.

Brian stood in front of their shared closet, pulling out hangers of pants first, then button-down shirts. He mixed and matched until something gelled for him. The soft flow of the pajama bottoms on Brian's legs made Michael stare at the perfect ass for awhile, then glanced along the thick thighs and tapered calves, wondering something. Just a little curiosity he would love to discover. But he thought he would save that for later tonight, when Jenny was safe in her bed.

Michael knew all he had to do was wait, Brian would return to their bed. Brian usually liked to prepare before preparing for dressing when the time came close to getting ready. He really didn't have to be out of the house until 8:15am or 8:30am, but he was always… _always_ a stickler for being on time. Especially for work, his own ad agency.

And _it_ happened, Michael had waited patiently enough and the mattress dipped a bit from Brian crawling on the surface. He probably knew Michael was actually awake, simply playing their game of ignoring the obvious. So Brian was seated in his favorite perch, near the bed post, able to watch Michael as he slept. Able to kick him gently awake when the need arose.

But there was a change, subtle, yet… _so different_.

Brian began to crawl toward Michael, climbing over him and then straddling over his waist.

Michael was up, so up he almost lifted his torso off the bed. But Brian was there to hold him back down. "Wha--?" He tried to turn his head, but realized he was imprisoned by the body laying on top of him. "Okay…" Michael agreed to lay back down, splaying his arms out from his sides. "… do your worst." He heard a strange sucking sound like… " _What… in the world?!_ "

"Stop, Michael. Close your eyes. Just feel what I write on your back."

_Huh?_ " _Huh? Feel what?_ " 

On the pale naked back, Brian began to write with a wet fingertip.  
 **  
W-A-N-T… M-E… ?**

Once Michael realized what was going on, he chuckled. He knew what might be spelled next, but he kept his mind open. "Uh, yeah… that's obvious."  
 **  
N-E-E-D… M-E… ?**

Michael let out a choked sigh, nodding his head, but added, " _Always…_ " He giggled a little when he felt the tender kiss to a shoulder blade. He lay his head on his pillow, hopeful for more wet graffiti on his skin. Brian didn't know he was breathing on the moistness, causing Michael to shiver.

 **L-O-V-E… M-E… ?**

Michael shut his eyes. " _Now… forever and… if possible, infinity._ " He was ready for it to have ended, but Brian wouldn't let him up.

Brian added a bit more to this portion. Holding down the biceps with his hands to keep Michael from moving his arms on the bed, he took the tip of his tongue and began to sculpt each letter, kissing after each one.

 **M… A… R… R… Y… M-… ?**   


Michael didn't let Brian go any further. He flipped over, sending Brian on his back. " _Don't!_ " He didn't mean to be so forceful, Brian thought it was simply being playful. Once he saw the serious sadness on Michael's face… he paused, his face blank. Michael opened his eyes, glancing at Brian's stunned look. "I'm sorry. You took it too far." He knew this time would come… _someday_ . He hadn't known when, but he sure didn't expect it this soon and now. "Don't do this -- to us." 

“ _Don't do what?_ ” Brian raised one eyebrow, protective of his heart. "You didn't even let me finish spelling. You don't know what I meant."

"Do too." Michael hated that he sounded like a little kid. " _Christ!_ " He covered a hand over his face, not knowing what to do next or how to react. All he knew was that what he was doing wasn't assuring Brian or making the sudden tension between them any better. "Look, Brian--" He reached out for Brian's forearm, grabbing the wrist.

"So you think you know, but you never will." Brian furrowed his brow, wondering if Michael knew how bone crushing his hold was. " _What?_ Teddy and Blakey can get hitched, but we--"

"Brian, don't. Don't use them as an excuse. It's flimsy and it doesn't work."

"That's not--" Brian didn't know what to say. "What would be your answer if I was serious?" He yanked his arm back, rubbing his reddening wrist. He moved, trying to hibernate near the bed post, not sure if he could remain next to Michael for awhile until they cooled down.

"Oh, so you _weren't_ serious just then?" Michael threw his hands up in grief. "Think marriage is still a lame joke? A matrimonial prison of monogamy?"

"Michael, don't--" Brian softly begged, wondering when this had suddenly slipped out of his control and gone all wrong.

" _Don't what?_ _Don't get frustrated when you keep making jokes about something special and sacred between two people, despite being gay or straight?_ I should know. I had one with Ben and it--"

Brian was shaking his head in denial. "That's not what I meant at all." He glanced at Michael, in frustration, wishing he could hold him, touch him. But Michael didn't want any of _that_ now. He wanted space. _That…_ Brian could give him, easily.

Michael raised sad eyes toward Brian. " _What do you mean then?_ "

" _A guy can't test waters? May he send out feelers to know where he stands?_ "

“Not you.” Michael shook his head. "Not Brian Kinney. Not my guy."

Brian let out a small smirk. His Michael was still in there, just scared of the Kinney Fear of Marriage scenario and spiel. "Your guy?" He touched his chest in question to which Michael smiled and pointed at him.

" _Quit teasing me!_ " Michael threw the decorative head-roll pillow at Brian. As he went backwards to catch the awkward puffy roll, he forgot about the scrollwork connecting the lower portion of the bedposts and at the bottom of the bed.

The sharp crack of bone on wood echoed in the silence.

" _Brian!_ " Michael was quickly attentive. He rushed to Brian's side, in fetal position. He was savoring his right temple at the hairline. " _Ow…_ " He made a noise in the back of his throat from having heard the injury happen. " _… sweetie…_ " He petted Brian's chest, wishing he would remove his hand so he could look at the skin. " _… does it hurt?_ "

Brian simply closed his eyes, finally tired, letting out a sigh. That crack to his skull was Fate's way of telling him he had approached the marriage question too soon. He liked having Michael's hands over him, the softness of his voice back. The attention to his bruised ego was what needed the most attention. "Serves me right. Kinney and matrimony don't mix."

Michael frowned, backing up a bit. He crouched over Brian, crowding him. "No, that's not what I meant." He slipped off the bed, heading into the bathroom to get a cold washcloth. "Look…" He shifted slowly toward Brian, wondering if he was allowed back into his realm. He knew he had been angry long enough to push Brian far away, emotionally. He placed the cloth on Brian's forehead, using Brian's hand to hold it there. He didn't know if Brian wanted his touch at the moment. "… right now, we're barely a month strong on our own. I don't know if I could cope explaining all that's been happening, plus a wedding. And we haven't even told them about our relationship. It's easier to take things as they come to us. Go slowly. Take our time. I just separated from my husband. I got my daughter back and I don't--"

Brian put a hand up, palm out. "Enough." He wasn't yelling, his voice was commanding. "Message received. Pardon while I go lick my wounds." He needed to use the bathroom door to create space or else he would scream. Not harm, not hurt… only himself. _Stupid, stupid fool._ He was at the sink mirror, pulling on the faucet spickets. The door opened, with a light push. "Not now, Michael." He tilted his head about, checking out the reddening skin on his forehead. He was only looking for cuts or blood. Because it hurt like a motherfucker.

Michael had dressed in a pair of boxer briefs and a seen-better-days t-shirt. He knew Brian didn't mean for this conversation to pan out this way, especially not getting hurt physically. He sure hadn't expected _that_ particular reaction from Michael. 

 

"Yeah, sorry. I took two pot shots at your pride out there and you hit your head. I owe you some explanations." 

Brian stared into the sink. "You don't ever _owe_ me a thing." It wasn't meant harshly, because Brian knew how much Michael had to put up with his past bullshit. Having him finally take a stand, when he always knew serious topics just weren't the cup of tea to discuss, gave Michael plenty of wiggle room to make mistakes.

"Would you let me--? I do--"

"See how easy the two little words can be said." Brian weakly grinned, looking from mirror to Michael.

Michael crinkled his brow before he caught on. He shook his head. Brian was trying so hard to act like he wasn't bothered by Michael's reaction to his simple question. Brian had every right to ask and discover what Michael's answer would be. _Was Brian Kinney even worthy of marriage… and a wedding ceremony?_ "You _have_ to know _something_." Michael climbed onto the bathroom counter space between their two sinks.

"Hmm?" Brian thought he could use this time to start shaving, getting ready for work. Maybe he should just leave for work early all together.

Michael took a deep breath, placing his palms together and resting them between his knees. "If I could--if it were possible, I'd marry you right this minute."

Brian paused in squeezing out his shaving cream. " _You would?_ " He glanced at Michael from the side of his eyes.

"Scout's honor."

"You were never a scout."

"I had a crush on one. When I was little. At camp. He kissed me."

Brian's eyes remained locked on Michael's face. "And you _liked_ it, didn't you?" He reached over to chuck under Michael's chin.

Michael grabbed the fingers, a bit more gentle with Brian this time. "C'mere." He motioned for Brian to come over, stand between his legs. He took the shaving cream can, squirting out the foam. He began to rub the soap on the stubble, laughing as he watched Brian puff out his cheeks and then pucker his lips. Before he went for the portable shaver, he bent Brian's head to tenderly press his lips on the discoloring skin. "Kisses make them heal faster. Ma used to tell me that."

"Five out of four doctors say so too." Brian lifted his eyebrow, to see if Michael was paying attention to his joke. He wanted to touch Michael, hold his hips, but he couldn't without feeling a bit saddened and bitter at what faith he had lost. "I fucked it all up, didn't I?" He was turning his jaw line around for Michael to work on.

Michael shook his head, pausing. "No, you didn't."

"Not this. Before…" Brian's eyes were intense on Michael, wanting him to know how sorry he was. For everything he couldn't speak of. "… those years of friendship I wasted… needlessly… selfishly…"

Michael smooshed Brian's lips closed, causing foam to end up on his hands and all over him. " _We_ messed up. Hey, look at me." He snatched Brian's chin when he tried to avoid him. "I'm not admitting you were alone in this situation. I shared in the 'fuckin' up' department as well. If I'd only said one thing different. Had a little more of this and a helluva lot more of that…"

"… we wouldn't be who we are right now, telling one another we were both at fault." Brian looked away, thinking. "Think it's always been in the timing?"

"You mean… _had we tried doing this our Senior year in high school? Would we have lasted or wanted to last… suffering everything we did when we weren't together?_ "

Brian loosened his arms about his body, securing them to rest on the counter beside Michael's thighs. "No. I wasn't focused on anybody else. I only wanted out. Out of my father's house. Out of The Pitts."

Michael was working on the upper lip, coming down the mouth's shape. "You going away to college would have put a much larger strain on us, had we been seriously dating. I don't think we would have lasted, either."

"We nearly didn't last… anyway…" Brian recalled the past, staring down at Michael's head.

"Eh… we managed to pull through, scathed but better for it. Though we liked being together, sharing our lives… we cold still strive for independence."

" _And now?_ "

Michael looked at Brian, watching his lips smile, still covered with some shaving cream. "Well, you'd have to leave me. If you did, I'd die a little, but I'd move on."

Brian chuckled, waving a hand. " _Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Why would_ ** _I_** _have to leave you for the fake scenario to work?_ "

Michael picked up a small hand towel, rubbing off some of the foam leftover. "Wash our face, grizzly man."

Brian proceeded to wash his face, completely. He poured out some musk into his palm, splashing his cheeks. " **I,** for your information, will not move from this spot." He washed his hands of the scent and wiped his skin clean.

"Me, either." Michael pronounced in kind.

"Well…" Brian thought about his wording. "… what I meant was -- never leaving you. Not ever leaving you in this bathroom." He squinted his eyes. " _Is that what you meant?_ ”

Michael nodded on a light chuckle. “Yes, dear.” They were almost back to rights.

Brian sighed, holding out his arms. "I'd carry you back to bed, but I may have concussed myself. And I don't wish to drop you on your perfectly rounded ass on the way."

Michael waved his hand to ward off the worry. "I can walk." He slid off the counter, quickly washing his hands off, but only on the towel. He liked keeping the scent of Brian's shaving cream on his hands. "Here…" He quickly moved to take Brian's arm and elbow. "… I'll even guide you on your way back."

" _Sheesh..._ maybe _you're_ the one who hit his head."

"I _can't_ take care of the man I love?"

"Operative word being 'man'. _Idiot_ , maybe, but not _invalid_ or _imbecile_." Brian slipped on by, making a safe return to the bed. He climbed onto a side, they never chose particular ones. He made room for Michael to crawl in behind him. He simply needed to rest his head for awhile.

Michael spooned behind Brian, sitting up higher on the pillows. He secured his arms about Brian's neck, pulling him flush to rest on him, like a human pillow. He took tender care of Brian, letting his head lay back on his chest. He was afraid for awhile there that he had scared Brian away. He hadn't meant to, but the way Brian was holding onto his arm, wrapped around him… he just needed the steady reassurance that things would be alright.

~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~

When Jenny came down the stairs, she could see the table was set, breakfast was being cooked. Brian was leaning on an area of the kitchen counter, dressed for work, while her father was puttering about the floor. She hesitated to interrupt. They looked happy, laughing together at a mutual joke.

She recalled coming down the stairs at home in Toronto, seeing her mother or Lindsay... _not ever both_. If they were together, there were shouting matches and doors slamming.

Jenny stood quietly near an empty chair, simply content watching. Brian chuckled at something her father said and the silly antics he added making Brian almost choke on his sip of orange juice.

"C'mere." Brian held out a hand for Michael to take. Once he snagged a few fingers, he flourished a suave move. They stood nearly chest to chest. Brian scrunched down to be level with Michael's face. "Just think..." He deeply kissed, his arms sloping down to Michael's waist, locking at the lumbar spine. "... I have tonight off. You, sir, can have me all to yourself." He dipped his head to kiss a piece of Michael's neck he knew would cause the knees to buckle. "Bend me to your will."

"I seemed to recall both of us doing enough bending a few hours ago." Michael's snagged a hand at the back of Brian's hairline.

"Not enough."

"No. Never seems enough."

Brian kept his face tucked into Michael's neck. "I wish--"

" _What?_ " Michael let his arm fall, rubbing Brian's back.

"Seems silly..." Brian brought his head back up, taking a final gulp of the rest of his juice. "... making wishes that won't ever come true."

"I'm _here_." Michael twirled in Brian's arms, making it seem like he was one "wish" of Brian's that came true. " _Can I be of some help?_ "

Brian traced a finger over Michael's cheek, ending at his lips. "If it were only _that_ easy." He stared at the two pieces of plump flesh. Too much attention to them, making that sexy mouth look much fuller. It was no wonder Michael could still form words coherently.

"Say it out loud. Maybe someone will hear."

"I wish..." Brian still halted his speech. He sighed, then went on. "... that everything we wanted didn't have to come to us with a fight. Like it's not expected of us. As if we don't deserve this kind of happiness... every day.'

“You could live like _that_?” Michael tilted his head, looking intently at Brian's eyes. "Having what you _once hated_ that straight people have?"

Brian shrugged one shoulder. " _Why should they have all the fun?_ We need some 'glory', too. For every stupid prejudice we receive just for existing."

" _Is it possible to create a world like that? Where everything we want, or need, is easily attainable? And, really, does it make it less worthwhile if the road is less or more difficult?_ "

"I don't know. I hate this. Wanting so much in this life I can't have. This house... you by my side... Jenny... Gus... my advertising agency... your comic book store. _I want it all_."

“Are you patient enough to wait?” Michael couldn't help the tiny smile for leaking out. "Maybe those things will come to you?"

Brian furrowed his brow in thoughtfulness. "Go on…"

"Before, in your heyday of bachelorhood, did you ever think you'd be this passionate about complacency, remaining in one place for the rest of your life? Even monogamy? Giving yourself to me... your trust, your respect, your heart... everything you kept for yourself? All that you are and anything you thought you could be? Fatherhood and wanting to be there for Jenny and Gus? Needing their love and affection?" Michael soothed both hands down Brian's chest, playing with the folds of his suit jacket. "Don't you think, Mr. Kinney, you need to rest your weary brain and body and just let it all come to you? Because, shocking I know, you deserve everything. It's your time to be the man no one else believes you can be."

“You really think that highly of me?” Brian had to look down, feeling tears gather, clogging his throat. "That I'm owed a patch of happiness?"

"Yes." Michael laughed, shaking his head. "Will you sit back and allow _us_ to do that for you? Stop trying so damn hard to figure it all out, attempting to find it on your own. That's what we're all here for. Me... Jenny... Gus... and uh, Hunter, if you don't mind. Ted.... when you can tolerate his squareness. Even Blake. And maybe... Emmett. But you don't have to if it's too much. Em can be a bit much for me at times."

Brian smiled, a little shy. "Glad you're here to kick me in the ass. Set me right. Nobody does it quite like you."

Michael rubbed a soft spot on Brian's cheek. "I'll always be here. _Always_."

"Good... 'cause that makes me want to begin today even more." Brian quickly pecked Michael's mouth, extending the pressure for awhile. He picked up his briefcase off the counter. "Hey, tonight at dinner -- you and me – we will talk about that phone call to Melanie. Okay?"

"Sure." Michael wiped hands on his hips. "Anything special you want for dinner?" He saw Brian's train of thought roll through his mind. _Pervert._ "... and _no, I refuse to be the main course_." He bowed like a lady in courtesy.

"I'll take a 'midnight snack', if you're good for it." At Michel's snicker and agreement, Brian answered the dinner question. "Feel like going out?"

"Not the Diner."

"I didn't say the Diner was one of your choices."

"Oh? Do you know of somewhere we can take Jenny? Is it new? Is it nice?"

"Yup." Brian was almost on his way out of the kitchen, he kept hold of the wall's molding. "A potential client. Chef who owns his own restaurant. Family run, through-n-through. He went to cooking school over in Italy."

Michael crossed arms over his chest. "But we had pasta _last night_."

"There's other dishes on the menu. I hear he makes a mean hamburger."

"Okay... sounds great. Maybe the food will be on the house."

Brian turned his head, knowing exactly what made Michael agree. "How did I know you'd accept an offer of free food?"

"Well, you do know me -- very well, I might add."

Brian swiveled to head out. "See you when I see you." He had to get out soon or he would be here forever.

"Bye, Brian. Call Jen down on your way out."

Jenny finally jumped into view, spooking Brian. "… ''m up, Daddy!" She blocked Brian's exit. She walked toward Brian and grabbed for his dangling, empty hand. "… can I walk you to yur car?"

Brian didn't know how to answer. Jenny was looking up at him with young "Michael" eyes. He was utterly speechless. "Sure."

Jenny tugged, making their way to the front door. "… you gonna have a bizzy day?"

Brian shook his head, wondering what secret Jenny had up her sleeve. "Nah, pretty light. Middle of the week, you know." _Yeah…_ like a five-year-old child would completely understand.

"… if Daddy an' I come see you, can we bring you lunch?" Jenny had walked through the foyer.

"Bring _**me**_ lunch. Lady Jenny, now you're talkin'."

Michael shook his head as he watched Jenny, literally, drag Brian out the door. He wondered how long she had been standing in the dining room, listening. He didn't think much of it and tried to wrap his head around his To Do list for the store. He gathered dishes and food, waiting for Jenny's return so they could have their breakfast together.

What he didn't expect was the blood curdling child's scream, then some yelling…

" _ **DADDY!**_ "

For a momentary second, Michael stopped and turned toward the living room window, thinking the neighbors were having quite a fight. Then something in the house crashed to the floor… shattering glass… and the curtains moved…

Michael heard the quick footfalls of Jenny's shoes on the porch steps, then on the hardwood flooring. She frantically dashed in, having left the door wide open in her fright.

" _… Daddy! Come help… please! Brian… he…_ " Jenny's red, flushed cheeks were stained with tears. Her eyes were wide on her face, pupils dilated. " _… he f-fell. He won' get up… he won' move…_ " Her shaking hands reached out for him to take them. "Daddy?!"

" _Dear God!_ " Michael was out the door in a flash, Jenny trailing behind him.

  
**~~TBC...**


	9. Chapter 9

  
He saw Brian on the ground as if he had fallen into the bushes lining the walkway to the car. 

_Dear God…_ " _Jesus!… no! NO!_ " Michael quietly begged like a child. About a billion medical conditions scrambled through his mind… save one. " _Brian!_ " He kneeled, his thighs brushing up against Brian's back. He wanted to cradle him, hold him close, do _something_ rather than sit here defenseless. He looked down and glanced about Brian's body. He didn't want to move him until he was fully awake again. Which he would be… _yes, he would be_ . A dry sob formed in Michael throat, _why in Heaven? Why?_ " _Honey… c'mon… Brian… wha--?_ " He couldn't see what had happened… _why?_ There wasn't anything around Brian to be suspect. Thank God Brian was breathing, the up-n-down motions of his chest were showing that fact. It… well, it basically looked as if Brian had fainted, because he appeared to be somewhat asleep. 

_Jenny? Where was she? She was…_ as Michael glanced over his shoulder, peripherally, he saw her… standing silently, crying, wringing her hands on the porch. _Oh, God… baby… sweetheart._ " _Sweetie… Jen… c'mere…_ " He held out his hand. 

"Daddy… I'm sorry… I didn' know…" Jenny grabbed her father's hand like a lifeline. She tucked her whole body into his side, as he stayed knelt on the ground. She simply sobbed in shock.

" _Hey… hey…_ calm down… he's okay. You did fine to come get me. Just… baby, tell me what happened?" Michael held Jenny's face in his hands, making her look into his eyes. To focus, assuage the fear of looking at a still and quiet Brian. He brushed back her dark ringlets.

"… I wuz…" Jenny pointed toward the car. "… we got here... an'… I walk'd there... but Brian stopp'd an' then he…" She squeezed her eyes shut. She put a little palm to her temple. "… he went like this... an' fell..." She didn't dare look yet, so she simply gestured with her head.

"Jen, I need you to do something for me. Look at me." Michael moved Jenny's chin again for her to raise her head. "Go into the house. Bring me -- two…" He held up two fingers. "… two bottled waters, from the fridge. And bring me a towel… one towel… I washed some last night so they should be folded and in piles on the kitchen counter. Got that? Two bottled waters and a towel from the kitchen." He needed to give her busy work to keep her occupied and feeling useful. “Can you do that for me, Jen?”

"Yes, Daddy." Jenny reached up to squeeze her father's hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry." She bit her top lip to keep back tears and scurried off.

Michael released a huge breath of relief. _Dear God… Oh God…_ Brian had simply fainted, losing consciousness from the bump he had received on his head from the bed frame scrollwork. Once Michael had water, he could wake Brian up with no problem. But for now, he would take a few seconds to deep breathe and find his heart on the ground, probably laying _under_ Brian. Michael wanted to kick him and kiss him at the same time.

A couple of curious neighbors, who had heard Jenny scream and yell for her "Daddy", stood on their porches in curiosity. None curious enough to call an ambulance or the cops.

Michael knew as long as _he_ didn't freak out, _no one else_ would.

"… here, Daddy." Jenny handed her father the towel first, watching him lay it down on his thighs. Next was one bottle, then the second. She tucked a flyaway piece of hair behind her ear. She had found a ponytail scrunchie, discovering she couldn't be active with hair in her face. "… is Brian gonna--?" She put a hand to her mouth.

" _Die?_ " Michael smiled sweetly, then opened the first bottle to dampen the towel. "No, Jen. He'll feel awful, kind of like he _wants_ to die, but no. He's gonna live."

"… can I help?" Guilt pushed Jenny to try to do anything she could for Brian to be okay. Her voice sounded shaky, nervous.

Michael decided that Jenny appeared calmer, somewhat. He didn't know when it happened, but she was okay on the surface, just a bunch of jumbled nerves and fear, underneath. "You can hold his hand. Sit over--" Jenny found herself a spot, taking Brian's limp hand in hers and placing palm to palm. "… yeah, that's good. He'll want to see your face when he opens his eyes."

Jenny wrinkled her brow. " _Why?_ " She cradled her hand, with Brian's, to her corduroy jumper front.

"When he wakes up, he will feel as bad was you do, maybe worse. And he's gonna apologize… _a lot_." Michael lightly chuckled, then poured the rest of the water over Brian's head and face.

Brian sputtered awake, stunned and a bit disoriented. He felt wet and dirty, learning he was laying curiously on the cold hard cement… and his hand was in Jenny's clasp. " _Jen… wha--?_ "

"… you fell, Brian." Jenny replied, reaching to smooth out his wet hair from his head. She made a face at the bruise growing on his temple. Something told her it wasn't a good thing to touch.

Brian rolled his eyes, earnestly ashamed. " _Was I graceful? Or did I lop over like a marionette?_ " He didn't like the film of tears in Jenny's eyes and the way she tightly held onto his hand. Like he could have been on his deathbed. "Your fath--Mich--" He looked over his shoulder, already feeling the intense warmth at his back. " _Oh… hey…_ " He shrugged his shoulders, like it was his usual morning workout to faint on the way to the car.

"Ask Jen… she saw _everything_."

" _Jenny… no… sweetie…_ " Brian tried to move, but the world became wobbly and titled. " _Whoa!_ " Michael was able to catch him, settling him back on his chest.

"Here." Michael opened the second water bottle, off to the side. "Drink this. Losing consciousness gives you dry mouth." He handed the bottle down to Brian. " _Jen?_ "

" _Yes, Daddy?_ " Jenny let Brian's hand loose, wiping an entire sleeve under her leaking nose.

Brian had to look away, shutting his eyes. 

" _One_ more favor." Michael held up one finger.

"... 'kay." Jenny mumbled as she stood up, not sure she wanted to leave Brian's side, just yet.

"Go inside the fridge again. I need you to bring Brian something fizzy to drink. Like Ginger Ale… or Sprite… 7-Up…"

"… 'kay." Jenny was about to move, but she bent down to kiss Brian's forehead. "Sorry, Brian." She softly petted his hair again, picking out a piece of wood shaving from the landscaping.

" _No… wait… no…_ " Brian tried to grab for Jenny's hand, but she was too springy and gone. " _… shit…_ "

Michael latched onto Brian's shoulder forcing him backwards to lay on him. " _Ssshhh…_ lean against me."

"Michael, I think she has some idea she almost killed me." Brian kept trying to move, but it was like something was holding him down. “I need to--”

" _Quit it!_ No. Sit still or you'll--"

"Or I'll _what--_?" Brian attempted to sit upright on his own, his eyes almost rolled back into his head again. He leaned over to his left, proceeding to up-chuck the food he had eaten for breakfast in the bushes.

"… _or you'll throw up_." Michael heaved a sigh. He glanced down at Brian's forehead, moving the spiked locks to see the bruise forming on the temple. "You hit your head harder than we thought." He stopped speaking, tightening his mouth from overwrought emotions.

"I was fine before."

"You were running on adrenaline, Brian. I should have insisted you stay home today."

“I can't.”Brian sat back against Michael's chest, drinking water and taking the offered moist towel. "Even though it's a light day, we still have contracts to work on and clients' wishes to fulfill. I--my work is never done, even when I want it to be."

"You want to do all this while being brain damaged?" Michael knew it sounded stupid, but Brian sometimes had no common sense about his own health.

"Michael--" Brian wasn't offended, but there was a point of not being too dramatic about this. He just fainted. _Simple._

"No. I'm taking you to the Emergency Room. A quick check up to see if you're okay and then… _maybe_ … I'll allow you to go into your office and work. For a few-- _a few_ … like four hours." He held down "four" fingers for Brian to clearly read.

"So… _what?_ You're going to cancel all those interviews you had set up, close the store… _for me?_ "

"If it helps to make sure you stay alive or upright all day… healthy and conscious… _shit yeah!_ I'm the Boss. _I can do what I want, when I want!_ "

" _Yes, Bossman!_ " Brian had to laugh. He couldn't see Michael's face, but he knew it must be on fire.

"Sorry… I used my indoor yelling voice inappropriately."

"It's okay." Brian sang sweetly, pushing back against Michael. “It was buffered with love.”

Michael snaked his arms about Brian, from behind. "You fuckin' scared me." He muttered near Brian's ear. He kissed the non-injured temple. "Don't ever do that again."

Brian took his empty hand to sooth Michael's forearm over his belly. "Thought you'd lost me?"

"Yeah… 'bout a million-n-one things went through my mind. I even looked for a sniper's gunshot wound."

"Well… _Christ!_ That's not encouraging."

"Daddy…" Jenny returned, slowly walking up beside her father on the sidewalk. She was carrying a glass filled with ice and some fizzy soda. In her other hand was a half empty can of the same soda, but a bendy straw poking out of the open spout. "… is this okay for Brian?” She had brought the “fizzy stuff” two kind of ways, unsure how Brian would want to drink. “... you drink brown bottle stuff wit' no glass, but… sumtimes you have iced tea, like Daddy, an' there's a straw... then othur times you like ice… so here…" She held out both items for Brian to have.

And in that moment of thoughtfulness, Brian knew _exactly_ what Michael had meant about waiting patiently for love and happiness to come to him… finally.

"Jenny… _have you ever wanted to visit a hospital's emergency room?_ " Brian decided he would suffer the tedious consequences for Jenny's sake and to save himself from Michael's wrath.

_What we won't do for love, huh?_

~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~

Brian was grudgingly laying on the ER bed, one railing side down. They were going to put both up because of his recent fainting tendencies, but he gave Michael a look that told him… _let's compromise_ … and he had gotten his way. Laying on his left side, he was pushed against the railing, his arm folded and drawn up under his head. He was looking across at Jenny, who was seated at his bedside in a chair.

Jenny looked smaller, a little fear still in her eyes. She was trying to soak in her first experience in a hospital. Hands folded properly in her lap and her legs crossed at the ankle. They had drawn the privacy curtain around Brian's ER cubicle. They could only see feet shuffling about.

Brian was dressed in a hospital gown, naked upper torso, but he had resigned to keep his trousers on. He darted his eyes over toward Jenny, wishing she could look at him without wanting to tear up. "Were you scared?"

Jenny's head quickly glanced up, her shoulders shrugging. "… yes, when you fell... but then Daddy came an' say by you... he knew what to do, how to help…" She sighed shutting her eyes and shaking her head, the memory so clear in her head. Her emotions in her throat, the fear and the intense pain in her heart. "… nope... but 'm worr'd 'bout you...”

Briann settled further into the pillow, he made enough room for Jenny to climb up. "I, uh…" He hadn't apologized to her, because he was trying to formulate the best response to make her feel better. He doubted he could, but he would damn well try. 

"… no… don'..." Jenny slid down, got off the chair and walked to the bed edge. She stood next to the frame, making sure she wouldn't get in trouble for wanting to crawl next to Brian. "… do you—can I--?" Her fingers barely skimmed the hospital bed sheets.

Brian smirked, coming closer to hold out his hands. "I'll tell The Doc the best cure for me is _Lady Jenny_. I'm the patient, I rule _my_ care." He found a force of strength in him to pull her up. His arms were accidentally open wide and Jenny simply crawled within the circle. Her ear purposefully resting on Brian's heart, hearing its strong beat. He dipped his head, pressing a kiss to the top of her soft plait of hair. _God…_ she felt right being in his arms -- a sudden sense of love, loving. He knew he didn't have to say a thing to make it right with Jenny. She had found a way to make it right for herself. "And…" He spoke through her hair, settling to rest his cheek on the raven locks. "… now I'm fine."

Jenny tucked her body into herself, snuggling into Brian. "… you goin' to work?" She felt the tears surface, but she liked their talking more.

"Nah…" Brian began to comb through the dark hair, fanning it out on his body. Every so often, he twirled a piece around his fingers, making poor excuses for curls. "… I'm thinking of taking some good advice given to me and using a 'sick day'."

"Neato." Jenny smiled against Brian's chest, she began to think of what they could do together. "… we can watch cartoons an'… Nick-lo-deon Jr.… I like the shows… or we can read… play games…" She knew Brian wouldn't agree to her Barbie-s or her dolls, so she hushed about them.

Brian wasn't keen on _any_ of those, but suffering through them was his way of making up for things he couldn't say. Just being able to see Jenny smile or laugh, he would put himself through worser tortures. "Are the cartoons educational?" He could go for South Park or Ren  & Stimpy. He would even watch Animaniacs or Pinky & The Brain. But if she made him watch something… _toddler-oriented_ … he would pretend to faint again and go sleep in his bedroom upstairs. Yes… he was a wuss.

"… w'a's that?"

"Hey… what about Sesame Street? I haven't watched that in a month of forevers."

Jenny lifted her head, looking at Brian's face. Her eyes huge. Brian knew… _Sesame Street?_ " _Big Bird? Bert & Ernie? Oscar, The Grouch? Baby Bear? Elmo?_"

Brian had nodded his head, until the last two puppet characters. "Of course. It's been around since I was your age, an' even before that."

" _Really?_ I watched it when I was younger."

_Younger? What the--?_ "Lady Jenny, may I remind you… you're only four." 

Jenny sat on the mattress, still within Brian's arms. "In two months, I'll be five." She said it proudly, as if it were thirty-five.

" _… oooo… soooo old._ " Brian teased, feeling the tiny elbow jut into his gut. " _Ufff…_ "

"… imma be oldur than I wuz..."

"Jenny, savor the age you are, no matter what. When you become old like me, you'll regret the losses." Brian rubbed the back of one finger down Jenny's flushed cheek.

" _Old? Older than five?_ " Jenny was curious to know how old Brian was, he acted younger than he made himself sound.

"Much… _much_ older." Brian saw a hand come between the part in the curtains, Michael slipping through backward to pull the section closed. "… Mich--" His voice caught at the look on Michael's face, the paleness… _the shock… the, uh… dread? What had--?_ "We wondered where you got off to." He tried to make light of his own worry. The way Michael appeared surely couldn't be concerning his medical condition. There was nothing wrong with him, _he_ was fine. He _felt_ fine, besides the big lump on his forehead and the funny sensations in his stomach. The dizziness had lifted, but he was a little shaken when walking upright. As long as he had someone next to him to hang onto, he was fine.

"I was nowhere." Michael didn't mean to sound cryptic, but this really wasn't the place he wanted to discuss his news -- _shocking, jaw-dropping news_. He wished he could tell Brian his appearance wasn't because of the _news_ the Doctor told him. He was fine; Brian was as healthy as he had been before arriving. "Did the doctor come in to talk to you, yet?"

"No. Just me an' Jenny… the last forty minutes or so." Brian joked, trying to make the scene lighter. He hadn't been bored, he was bewildered by how long Michael had been gone, wishing he would come back soon.

"Oh…" Michael then realized he stayed away too long. "Well, maybe he was waiting for _me_ to come back, so he could--"

_Come back? Where in the hell had Michael gone?_

"Mr. Novotny…" The tall, elder salt-n-pepper haired doctor strolled through the curtains. "… the nurse told me you'd returned. So… okay…" He seated himself on a rolling stool. He patted his thighs, having set Brian's medical records and some x-rays on the bed.

Michael looked behind him and rolled over the bed table for the doctor to use as a desk.

"Hey… thanks." The doctor pushed up his glasses on his nose. "… here are the Pros…" Taking the x-ray negative films -- a head series: including head X-ray and head MRI. He rolled over to a plastic box on the wall, reaching up to turn on a halogen backlight. "X-rays are fine. Both. No severe bone fracture shown and no internal cerebral damage." The doctor lifted up his eyes to see the little girl slip closer into Brian's clutch. "I, uh… saw..." He rolled over to pick up Brian's stack of charts they had collected. He opened the top one up first. "… from your old charts that you had testicular cancer. Your growth was removed – found to be _benign_. And you received some fairly intense, radical chemotherapy and radiation treatments." He then looked up to see Mr. Novotny slink up to stand behind Brian on the bed. A small hand coming out to lay on Brian's arm on the railing. The doctor waited for Brian to reply, but he saw so much more than he heard.

"Yes, but…" Brian got a little uncomfortable. Michael had never been around for his initial treatments for his cancer. This was new for him. _Damn_ , this was not the way he wanted Michael introduced to his medical health. "… I had a 99% chance of recovery. And, so far, I've been in remission state. Well, since the ending of those series of treatments and then a follow up biopsy, just recently." He had never had anyone in the room with him during his cancer scare. This would be as new to him too.

"I know… and your chart clearly shows that. Look, I don't need to tell you how rough those treatments are, because you went through them and survived. But my point is this -- being a prior cancer patient puts you in a constant high risk category no matter how long ago the cancer struck. You have to realize… remember those drugs, they were not a walk in the park. What they do _and did_ to your body. Especially your bones and joints. They were severely weakened. Not only had they seeped out every ounce of your energy, they stamped your mobility's future as being _iffy._ That would depend on how well you took care of yourself. The residual effects can sometimes last only weeks, _months…_ Some even years following the treatments ending."

Brian sighed, leaning his head back on the pillow. _Damn…_ He closed his eyes, feeling Michael's other hand come up to brush back his hair. He looked over at him and gave a bittersweet smile. They were both understanding the news, _good and bad_. Brian would, literally, _have_ to slow down.

The doctor could see the little girl's intense gaze on him. Brian must take her to the playground often, so he knew how to ease everyones' fears a tiny bit. "So, Brian…" His patient raised his head back up. "… no swings or jungle gyms for you."

Brian raised his eyebrow. "That's not a Con?"

The doctor chuckled. Brian had a good disposition, despite hating the very sight and idea of hospitals. And he didn't seem to have much thought to doctors, but he respected their talents. "No Cons. Other than a lumpy forehead in a day or two. You don't seem too vain of a man…" He didn't catch Brian and Michael's little snickers under their breathes. "… there will be a dark red bruise first, followed by our traditional black and blue hues. Then our nasty, yucky greenish-yellow blend and shortly thereafter it will dissipate. The 'knot', as we medical professionals call it, will be filling with blood and/or puss. Which hopefully disappears on its own. If not, you'll come back here and have a cut-n-drip."

" _Excuse me?!_ "

"Sorry… ER/Trauma lingo…" Using his hands and the tip of his pen, the doctor demonstrated on his own forehead. "We'll slice a cut on the skin of the knot and drain it. Best example… it's like a big pimple popping."

" _ **Yuck.**_ " Jenny made a sour face.

Brian and Michael chuckled at Jenny's show of disgust. _Yeah…_ it hadn't sounded appealing to them, either.

"You can't do that now?" Brian didn't want to whine, because he didn't feel like returning anytime soon.

The doctor quickly got up, walking toward Brian. He was tall enough to reach over and be able to touch Brian's temple, without Jenny being in his way. She still moved, a little. "Right now… the blood is beginning to work its way in." He lifted the butterfly bandage off to peek, then show Mr. Novotny. "See… kind of spider web-looking and severely red. Those are the blood vessels coming to the surface." He shifted, putting his hands in his labcoat pockets. "By tonight, it should start to darken, then tomorrow… Brian, you'll have a nice, shiny boo-boo."

" _That's it?_ " Brian wasn't spooked, minimally overwhelmed. He watched the doctor sit back on the rolling stool. He was reopening Brian's newer ER chart, scribbling things.

"I have your discharge instructions here." The doctor tore off a color-coded copy for his patient. He then took out his pen and wrote lower on the paper. "I'll give you my beeper number, for emergencies." He clarified while looking over the entire paper again. "Pretty much what I discussed with you already, but I will add… _no work for the rest of the week_. Take these days, and even the weekend, to rest… relax. See how you feel on Monday."

Brian opened his mouth to disagree, but Michael tightened his hand on his arm.

"Let him finish, Brian."

Brian tightened his lips, allowing the doctor to proceed.

The doctor understood why Brian was frustrated. So he thought he would make a good enough plea. "What worried me the most was the delay in your dizziness and the fainting spell. It should have hit you once you woke up this morning or immediately after you hit your head. But, there are some medical oddities I can't define, so I leave that up for you to figure out. I know you don't want to come back here… nor do I or Mr. Novotny." He stood to hand over the DC instructions to Mr. Novotny's hand. "We're sending you home with some extra bandages and pain medications. You may develop a headache, but it's not a guarantee. It's a small supply of both, so only use them if you _really need_ to. The nurse will have those bags for you when you're ready to leave."

"Thanks, Doctor." Michael responded as he held out a thankful hand toward the distinguished medical professional. He folded the discharge paper, stuffing it in his pocket to peruse later.

"Thank _you_ , Mr. Novotny." The doctor was passing by the bottom of the bed, and all he did was lay a cold, yet gentle fatherly hand on Brian's leg. He shook it quickly. "Take care, Brian."

"Yeah, _thanks…_ " Brian waited until the doctor was entirely gone. " _… thanks a lot._ " He then swiveled to glance over at Michael. " _You hear that? Three days… no work? Does he know who I am? Does he think I just magically pull money out of my ass?_ "

Michael had both hands around the top railing, he was ready to talk about something else. What had truly been on his mind when he first came into the ER cubicle. "Brian… hush up. Focus."

" _Focus? On what? Losing clients? Possibly… losing my business?_ "

"Well, you're only human and I've never truly seen you take a vacation. 'Sides, what could go wrong if you leave Ted and Cynthia in charge? I'm sure they've gotten capable of knowing more about clients and their contracts than you do."

Brian turned onto his back fully, staring wide-eyed at Michael. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

Michael snickered, shaking his head. Brian's ego was so fragile when it came to his business sense. "I don't know, but stop complaining. The problem is being fixed as we speak." He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out his cell phone. "I already put in a call to Cynthia. Anyway…" He was pushing some random buttons. "… Brian, I need you to concentrate on something else."

Brian was happy for the change of subject. Anything to get his mind off where he was and having to skip work for three days. "What? What is it? You've been preoccupied since you came back."

"You'll understand why… _once you hear this_ …" Michael tossed over his cell phone, watching Brian pick it up.

"Michael, what--?" Brian listened to the automated woman's voice saying to enter a voice mail code. "The code." Michael told him the numbers and he pressed the asterisks button. He could barely hear the voice. By plugging one ear, he discovered he recognized it as Melanie's, coupled with a lot of sobbing. " _Whoa! What the hell did she say?_ " Two words stuck in his head, but he didn't believe them.

Michael came around the other side of the bed, climbing up to sit with Jenny and Brian on the mattress. "Wait until the end, you'll get a prompt to repeat the message."

Brian did exactly that, able to focus clearly on Melanie's words. " _Oh… my…_ " He looked as if he was deflating air. "I, uh… when--?" He understood now why Michael looked so flabbergasted and bewildered.

"She must have called late last night. I finished up some laundry, before I came up to bed… and put my phone in the charger downstairs. I never heard it ring."

Brian fiddled with the phone, wishing to play the message again… just to be sure everything was true. "Did she seem coherent to you? I mean… beyond all the teary, blubbered words."

Michael shrugged, unable to believe how Fate could have turned on a dime for him. "I don't really know. I'd like to think so. That's probably why she was crying. Finally getting a clear head and all."

"This--" Brian turned his head to look directly at Michael. "This is--"

" _… too good to be true?_ " Michael smiled, lopsided. He really didn't know how to react. Good news and bad at the same time.

"Like a miracle." Brian glanced down at the back of Jenny's head, realizing what this meant. "It's exactly what _you_ \--what _we've_ wanted." His hand came up to brush through the long hair. Weird that his skin tingled now from the silky sensations.

_Jenny was… Jenny would soon be…_

Michael sidled closer to Brian's legs, leaning slightly on their strength. He looked at Jenny who innocently smiled up at her father. Michael couldn't even say the words. His hand slid up Brian's leg and reached out for a reassuring touch. Brian quietly obliged, squeezing the fingers.

By the end of the week, Melanie will have sent legal papers to Michael's lawyers office, giving him full custody of their daughter. His parental rights reinstated.

Jenny would be _his_ … as she was always meant to be.

Michael leaned on Brian, hanging on for dear life… in case he decided to faint too.

Jenny crinkled her brow slightly, seeing a change in her father's features. His eyes danced with wetness. "You okay, Daddy."

"Yes, baby… never better."

"… see…" Jenny reached over to pat her father's thigh. "… Brian's all better... thanks to you." She nodded once in silent agreement with her own words. She sat between her father and Brian… content.

~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~

Both Ted and Cynthia had completely understood about Brian needing to be away from the office for the rest of the week. They were earnestly concerned about their Boss, but not willing to constantly be on a "fainting watch" or possibly catching Brian doing further injury to himself. Not that they couldn't handle it, if it happened, but just nice to not have the worry at all.

Brian was slouched on the couch, dead center, staring ahead of him into the fireplace. " _Should I be hurt… or worried… or relieved that my troops feel better prepared without me to deal with our clients?_ "

Michael chuckled, he was scooting in between the kitchen and the living room, putting things away. Cleaning up the mess from breakfast, packaging the food to reheat later on. "Brian, it's not a reflection of your work ethic. In fact, you specifically chose these two people to work closely at your side. They knew one day would come where they had to _be_ you when you can't."

"No one can _be_ _ **me**_ , _but_ _ **me**_." Brian muttered, wishing he had enough energy to want to sit correctly, but he was oddly comfortable, crooked and sloppy on the cushions.

" _Thank God for that!_ " Michael teased, waiting for the moment Brian would stand and try the stairs. He wasn't willing to allow Brian to chance gravity that much… _maybe later_ … when it was time for bed. "Feel like something for lunch?" He easily offered. The plates were still on the table for a meal of some kind.

Brian did _something_ \-- he furrowed his brow. "Is it really _that_ late?"

“Almost noon.” Michael glanced at his watch. "I'm feeding Jenny. I could make you--"

"I'm actually not that hungry. Something about seeing my digested 'breakfast' on the ground. Kind of quells hunger for awhile." Brian found if he shifted a little… he gained momentum to sink deeper into the cushions.

"Oh, yeah… _what do you want to do about_ _tonight_?" Michael had his cell phone in his hand. He came out to the living room, standing near the end of the couch.

" _Huh?_ " Had Brian missed a piece of conversation?

“Your potential client. If you know the number, I can call and cancel the reservation.”Michael was leaning on the edge of the couch, anticipating a phone number. He found that if he was still, his hands actually shook. _What was wrong? Was it nerves? Over what?_

"Michael… c'mere…" Brian was seated upright, patting the empty section of cushion beside him.

"I have to--" Michael made a weak gesture with his phone and hand, toward the kitchen, where all the food was to make lunch. "Jen--she's--"

"Jenny's outside, Michael. Preoccupied with her toys like every kid usually is." Brian didn't like the look to Michael's features, like a deer caught in headlights. "C'mere… I need you to do something for me."

Michael tentatively walked closer, knowing what Brian might do. "I don't need you to coddle--" He moved quickly, caught between Brian's large knees and the coffee table. He was stuck, looking for an outlet. Brian had trapped him, right and good. "Look, I'm fine." He choked on a swallow. Only because now that the shock of knowing Jenny was finally going to be his daughter, for real, he could now refocus on what had scared him before leaving for the hospital.

Brian -- _still and not moving_. Jenny's scream and her tears. The sheer fear of what he might have lost had things gone differently. Always wondering… _why me?_ But he could clearly see Brian smiling and looking utterly gorgeous and… _alive… living, breathing… wanting to touch…_ _ **being**_. Michael wasn't sure he hadn't fallen more in love with Brian in this one second simply knowing he existed, right in front of him. Here to see another day. He only knew something in his mind had switched, one thought for a new one.

Brian shook his head, seeing the telltale light shaking of Michael's hands as he clutched the phone to his chest. He was frightened of something, possibly something from earlier this morning. "No… you're not. If you don't come here, I'll have to get up from my very relaxed position… and _make you_." He wasn't sounding forceful or commanding; his voice was actually soft, like a whisper. He knew exactly what Michael needed from him. If only he would move… _dammit…_

Brian motioned for Michael to take his outstretched hand. When he reluctantly did, Michael was brought down. He lay crossways on Brian's chest, half on and half off the couch. It worked for them. It looked awkward and uncomfortable, but it was often their way to simply lay on one another, even if it didn't look right. If they wanted, they could easily slide down to the cushions and lay spooned, Michael's back flush with Brian's chest. Only now, Brian was sitting straight, clutching Michael to his deeply breathing chest.

Michael had a stranglehold of Brian's forearm across his upper torso. He could feel the face tucked, lips hibernating in his neck, warm breath flowing down his naked skin under his shirt. His initial fear of seeing Brian on the ground… sputtering him into talking. For the first time about his fear of long ago. "I stumbled upon Vic, much like you. So still… not moving…"

" _Jesus…_ Michael…" _Were apologies worth much in this scenario?_ Brian shut his eyes, feeling the empathetic pain and heartache of entering the room where someone you loved had just died… _and you didn't know_. The constant suffering of always willing to be the survivor of a loved one's death. Vic… Ben and then Hunter, but surprisingly Michael almost skipped out on his own best friend's uncertain outcome. Brian held that as his most regretful action. Michael had never known, never got to "be there" for someone he loved.

" _Don't._ " Michael soothed a hand along Brian's naked forearm, feeling the light hairs under his palm. He needed to feel _Life_ under him. Needed the touch of someone who loved him. It was the only way he knew he could speak. "You carry no fault here. Nor do I. I seem to attract Death. Death likes me. Likes to see me suffer and fumble, falter. Death's so unforgiving." He wasn't sure he could do this, but he was going to try. "But I fight it back, knowing I'll cope." He began to dry sob, memories flooding him of the very day. "Only regrets now." He bowed his head, the real tears falling unchecked.

Brian knew what was coming next. He tried to prepare himself, but felt Michael needed him more.

"Vic was in his chair, like he'd been watching TV for hours. He was cold… _so cold_. Like ice. I touched him… I thought--I thought he was just asleep, but the second we connected, I was chilled. Ice through my veins. I didn't know what to do or say, but _I knew_. He was _gone_. _Just gone_. _Nothing. No more._ I was too late. One minute earlier… _would he have been alive?_ " Michael shook his head at what he had suffered for everyone. Keeping silent while trying to remain strong. Of wanting to crumble under the stress, needing the warmth of a friendly pair of arms. Not to talk, but just to let him be… _sad_. " _Did I say anything to upset him? Had I said enough of how I felt, so he knew how much I loved him... wherever he was going?_ He left me and I didn't get to say goodbye." He leaned back on Brian, trying to control the wetness on his face. He wanted to scream, but this time he felt content to simply whisper the truth toward Brian. _Only for him_ , so he would understand. " _But then… can we ever say enough 'g'byes' to make the feelings last a lifetime? Just so the memories never fade away?_ "

“I'm so glad you told me.” Brian secured both his arms around Michael, as he sunk them down to lay on their sides, spooning. "I knew there was something else besides--" Michael rolled to face Brian in his arms. His hands snaking up the folds of the shirt to touch flesh. Brian didn't know if he could find his next breath. Feeling those small hands on him, seeing Michael so enchanting, smiling yet with tears on his face. So deeply puzzling, yet captivated by his charm. "… uh, Melanie's call." Hazel eyes darted to-n-fro collecting images along the way. The back of his hand caressed down Michael's flushed cheek. "I can't promise I won't unexpectedly die on you. _Don't_ make me…" Brian was positively caught by how intense Michael's stare was, but not on his face alone. Like he was trying to remember right in the moment. As if he would easily forget what Brian looked like.

Michael didn't lift his eyes. He touched Brian's mouth, tenderly, watching the lips move… speaking so much of what was felt in the steadily beating heart under him. He thought he heard his name. "I know. I'm not expecting you to promise me the impossible. That's asking too much of anyone."

"If I could…" Brian kissed the grouping of fingers, tracing his lips down the inside of the wrist, letting the hand rest on his face. "… know that I would do anything I could to live forever. _If only for you_."

Michael shook his head, fingers lost in the satiny tangle of Brian's hair. "You shouldn't say that."

"Why?" Brian quirked up one eyebrow.

"Because that's what I wanted to say for you."

Foreheads fell… meshing, like always. The energy… the jolt… the connection building and churning between both men. The love… genuine love… powerful love… intense and painful. Making the other breathe differently, knowing how much of a long empty road to their future they had together, but still feeling as if every second had to count, turning minutes into elongated hours.

Wanting… Needing… Existing together.

"Stop crying." Brian grabbed Michael's face in one hand as he was the first to lift his head, breaking the connection. Never letting his eyes move from Michael's. "Jenny will get worried. She's had enough scares for today."

Michael wanted to savor every inch of Brian, images imprinted to make sure he could recall the intricate looks to the adored face before him. _Never forget… always there_. "I never knew. I didn't know that in one second of seeing you on the ground that I could lose you _that_ quickly. I knew in my head, but seeing, with my own eyes. It just knocked me down. I wanted--" Michael felt the tears grow again, wanting to be closer to Brian, even in their clothes.

Brian hugged Michael to his body, finally allowing him to bury his face. Giving him the justification to hide. " _Ssshhh… ssshhh…_ " He felt the sobs on his chest, knew they would be the end of him. " _Oh, Mikey… you fuckin' break my heart…_ " He rubbed and soothed Michael with his hand on his back, not knowing what to do to make it all better. He felt his own eyes pooling, never knowing tears fell. "I'm alive… touch me… feel me." He knew Michael could take good instructions, so the nimble hands search for skin. "No cancer. Just a knock on the head that might do me some good." He pulled back, caught up in having an emotionally wrought Michael in his arms. He couldn't help but want kiss it better. "We're fine." The first time he knew he was crying… he tasted his tears on Michael's lips. Felt the soft hands tenderly scrape his face, pushing and pulling, wanting more. Needing to know… _for real_ … that Brian was here. "I've got you…" His hands surrounded Michael's face, holding it precious in his grip. "… you're in my arms for good. You're already in my soul… my heart… my body…" He dipped again to take a simple taste of Michael's lips. "Christ… you're my fuckin' next breath… you're everything to me… and so much more…"

Michael put out a hand to fully cover Brian's mouth, making him stop speaking. He replaced fingers with his own lips. He was resigned now to ask out of sheer fear of wanting to know. _Was this how Brian had felt?_ As his mouth found distance, he asked, " _Marry me?_ " He didn't allow Brian to answer quickly, his lips were back… searching for his heart's fulfillment. "Before… after… during Ted's wedding… in, whenever, that…" He pointed behind his head, where the shelf carried the Terracotta planter. "… _stupid-ass fugly plant sprouts_ , I don't know, _buddin' fuckin' blood red roses_ … you _are_ weddin' me… right and proper." He nodded his head in his own agreement. "I can't lose you…" His lips came down for another taste, but Brian wouldn't allow it.

Brian wasn't angry. He was in thoughtful contemplation, but he was a little shocked. _Hadn't they already broached this subject earlier?_ "I didn't hit my head to make you feel sorry for me. I'm not marrying you because you can't bear to see me die."

"No… I don't mean that…" Michael touched Brian's face, gently caressing.

"Well, then… _what do you mean?_ " Brian raised an inquisitive eyebrow. " _Does the question matter more from you than from me?_ "

"No, please, Brian. That's not--don't be upset. God--" Michael shut his eyes in silent frustration. He thought he felt Brian try to get up, but he had read it wrong. " _No… don't… don't let me go…_ " He buried his head in shame, pulling Brian closer. _Was this how he made Brian feel… for simply asking… wanting to know?_ "Stop me from talking. I'm scared. I'm babbling. Don't listen to me." As he shook his head, he felt the hand clamp his jaw, bringing his face up with lips connecting, softly. Michael sighed, resting against Brian's chest. " _I love you… you're alive… I love you… you're safe… that's gotta be enough… yeah, I think so…_ "

"Michael…" Brian whispered against Michael's mouth.

" _Hmm?_ " Michael opened his eyes, seeing hazel eyes grow darker.

"You are so adorable when you ramble incoherently."

"Hold me. I'll shut up."

"Mikey…" Brian sang out sweetly, almost playful. He traced his index finger over Michael's face.

"Brian…"

"I figured it out."

Michael heard the pride in Brian's voice. He looked into his face. “ _What?_ ”

"This…" Brian made a gesture to show the situation they were in, not to mention the position. "I think we've come to a weird compromising conclusion." He saw the wonder on Michael's face. "We're at a neutral point. This relationship is never going to be enough… for either of us."

_What was Brian trying to say?_ "But it's what _we want_ ." 

"Exactly. But we keep discovering there's so much more buried underneath."

" _So when do we know when it will be enough and there isn't any more?_ "

"I guess… when the time is right. But we seem to want the _same_ outcome." Brian wasn't going to say it. It seemed a sore subject for them both.

_**Marriage…** _ seemed to be something they had both thought about and wanted with one another, but there was something in their way. 

" _And when will we know the time is right?_ "

"Later." Brian made a motion to show way, _way_ into the future. "We have to be patient enough to know when the time is right." He saw Michael's worry on his face. He could say something, but not mention the exact wording. "Michael, it's _in_ us both. To make the offer of our hands to the other, but we keep missing the beat."

"But we're okay?"

"Yeah." Brian kissed Michael to make him feel better. "We're stronger than we've ever been."

"We can't be on the same page because the other person feels it's the wrong time?" Michael was slowly realizing what Brian was saying and it made sense.

"Yeah."

"We suck."

Brian chuckled deeply, hugging Michael. He fixed them on the couch. "Nobody's perfect." He was now holding Michael on top of his chest. One of his favorite ways to sleep with Michael, wanting the gentle weight on his body.

"Oh, well… you are sometimes."

"Why, thank you." Brian got an elbow to his gut. " _Ow._ " He made a sound with his mouth, like letting out a gulp of air. "Ego deflating."

Michael didn't move, laying like water over Brian, surrounding him with every one of his body parts. "I'd enjoy being here with you like this, but Jenny will get hungry soon and I have to feed her."

"Are you really prepared for this house to grow?" Brian combed back Michael's spikes. “You'll have two kids to feed soon.”

"You mean the addition of Gus to our lives?"

Brian nodded, kissing the top of Michael's head. “You do know this _isn't_ permanent?” He moved his legs slightly, trapping Michael's between his.

"Yeah, but… even for however long he's here, we still have a lot to accomplish."

" _And that was 'code' for?_ " Brian snickered, feeling Michael join in his laughter.

"Fixing the damage that's been done. Making sure Gus knows we love him… we want him here… and, above all else, he's worth all the trouble we're going through."

Brian grabbed Michael's biceps, lifting him upward and then along his body so their faces were inches apart. "I say the words almost secretly in our bed, but if I could ever tell you I love you more than that second… _it would be now_." Michael pecked Brian's lips, smiling on the skin. Brian crossed his arms down Michael's back, holding him captive. "Means a lot that you're willing to open your home to my son."

Michael hovered over Brian's face, his hands on the couch arm above Brian's head. "Wherever I am will always be a home for you and Gus. I'd like to think of him as ours, you know… if it all works out for us in the end."

"We should talk with Jenny soon."

"Bedtime?"

"If we told her about her own situation now, we could probably use tonight at the restaurant as a semi-celebration."

Michael nodded his head. "And save the news about Gus until bedtime?"

"If you want."

"I think it's a great idea." Michael lifted one hand from the couch armrest, to tenderly touch Brian's face, simply fascinated. 

Brian felt trapped, bound and gagged by Michael's gaze. "Yeah… glad _you_ thought of it."

" _Brian?_ "

" _Yeah?_ "

"You can let me go now. I'm okay."

"Oh… sorry…" Brian had forgotten he had bodily caught Michael. He loosened each of his muscles and bones, becoming limp and flexible under Michael.

Michael had only moved his legs onto the floor, his chest and arms were still on Brian's body. "Don't apologize for that." He dipped his head to kiss a spot on Brian's neck. "I know exactly how you feel." He whispered his last words near the available earlobe, distracting Brian with a bite.

" _Ow…_ " Brian pouted to see Michael totally remove himself. "I'll just… lay here… and look good enough to eat." He attempted to put on a "sexy look" for Michael.

Michael busted out laughing on his way back into the kitchen to start making a meal for he and Jenny. "You… crack me up… so… so funny. I think I'll keep you."

Brian watched Michael leave, a little saddened to lose his presence, even though it was only in the next room over. He could close his eyes and listen to Michael as he puttered about the kitchen. He covered his face with both hands. Forgetting about his bruised temple. " _Ow… fuck…_ " He flipped to his side, curling his body to find a comfortable position. His eyes looked up at the _ugly-ass plant,_ realizing something peculiar. He lifted his head, looking at the plotted plant dead-on straight.

On the floor, lay an overturned photograph frame. Glass shards littering the hardwood floor. _Had that happened early this morning or when they were gone from the house?_

Brian looked back to Michael, who was still in the kitchen, opening the backdoor to take out some garbage. Brian kept in a crouched position, staying low to the ground. What he wanted to do was pick up the glass so Jenny wouldn't step in it. As he drew closer, the sheer curtain moved and -- if he hadn't hit his head and fainted today -- Brian would have thought he saw the shelving unit shift. The plant was… uh, literally growing before his eyes.

Kind of like Audrey II in "Little Shop Of Horrors".

Brian even heard a creaking sound, like someone trying to fit in a smaller size of jeans. Before the plant could eat him… (well, that's what Audrey II did to grow further)… he swept up the glass pieces with the back of the photo that had fallen out of the frame. He found some bowl to place the glass shards in, laying the photo on top. He picked the frame up, righting it to face him. He tried to catch the bigger glass that fell out, but wasn't expecting a metal scroll key to fall into his hand.

_A key? What?_

Brian then glanced at the photo he had sat off in the distance… and paled.

Vic had his arm around _somebody_. _A strange man_. But the picture was faded, from another time period. It looked to have been taken on board a ship or caught in a severe windstorm. Vic could clearly been seen, for his light blond mop of hair. He was facing the camera. But the second man… his hair was blowing in disarray over his face. His back was to the camera, but he had turned his head at just the right moment to have the side of his face caught in frame. The pair of them together were striking, light and dark contrasting.

_Why would Michael have had this particular picture in his home with Ben?_

Brian glanced over at the frame again and hadn't realized a second picture having fallen at the exact same time. _Two photos in one frame?_ The one that had been on top was one of Michael's school class pictures. Looking pathetically dorky, but so fuckin' cute at the same time. Brian rubbed a finger over Michael's young teen face, recalling this being the one vision that had helped him fall in love, originally. He pocketed both pictures and the key, meaning to find out some peculiar secrets that seemed to have been hidden.

_What did this mean?_

Brian heard the backdoor reopen, Michael coming back inside. He quickly hopped back onto the couch, hoping he lay in the same position as Michael left him. But he added his usual flourish of a dramatic arm over his eyes. Just for the right effect. Pretty soon Brian felt the tender care of a light blanket being placed over him… the kiss on his cheek and the scrape of a warm hand on his face… a finger curious to make sure he wasn't bleeding from his bedroom "war wound". He wanted to open his eyes, glancing up at Michael, if only to see love shining back at him or simply just to see his smile… but he was more exhausted than he realized.

Michael would wake Brian in a half hour, making sure he hadn't passed out, only slumbering his pain away. He sat for a bit longer, watching sleep overcome Brian… _lost in thought_ … Brian and him, their relationship… the addition of Jenny to the house… soon Gus joining them… and two occurrences where they both were ready for something pretty big… it wasn't that it would be overwhelming. Michael _knew_ they could do it. Make the marriage work like they were making _this relationship_ work. _What he wasn't sure of was if he was enough for Brian?_ _Would it be too much at some point? Would he one day wake up and find an empty space next to him in bed… no explanation to why… just dead air?_

No matter how often Brian did or said things to reassure Michael, _his_ fear was there. See the rule was… _**everybody leaves Michael Novotny at some point and he's supposed to move on, be a better person. He will allow that person to leave, because he thinks they will be better for it. Somehow he had been destroying their life, not the other way around. And when they leave, he should be reassured because there's something better around the next corner.**_

Or there was always Brian to fall back on, as his best friend, to make it all better. 

But for once in his life, Michael knew… beyond a shadow of doubt… he would do everything in his power to keep Brian. Even if it meant letting go of everything he believed he wanted for himself. Now though, if Brian left… he didn't have his best friend to fall back on, because he was in love with his best friend…

_So… what does he do?_ Michael was afraid to find out, so he would rather not make it happen at all. 

What he didn't know was that Brian felt the exact same way: same fears, same wants. And Brian would take the same measures to keep Michael happy. Even forgoing his bullshit bravado over gay marriage and "straight people values". He would marry his best friend without looking back with regrets, because Michael was the only man he had ever considered building a life with. The only person he would ever love completely. He was, also, pretty certain he was never enough for Michael… and one day he would wake up and get tired of Brian's crap… and he would be gone. No reason, just vanished into air. And Brian would be destroyed.

But for once in his life, Brian knew… beyond a shadow of doubt… he would do everything in his power to keep Michael. Even if it meant destroying every shameless, selfish idea he ever had of being alone. Now though, if Michael left… he didn't have a best friend to fall back on, because he was deeply in love with his best friend.

And that was just not the kind of shit he wanted to deal with, while coping with a broken heart. 

So they both clung, telling themselves they were both staying, only to allow the other the chance to leave. A silent battle neither man knew they were fighting and winning at the same time. The more time they were together, the stronger their love became, until they both felt like bursting from the pressure.

It might take them awhile to figure it all out, because well… it took them this long to get here, so why rush things?

**~~TBC...**


	10. Chapter 10

 

"Daddy?" Jenny was finishing taking a bite of her sandwich. 

"Hmm…?" Michael had been contemplative, for awhile, not realizing he'd been staring off into the distance.

"… did I do sumthin' bad?"

"Wha--? No… nooo…" Michael shook his head, then responded. "Out of curiosity, why do you ask?"

"… we talk a lot, at the tabil... yur quiet..."

"Jen…" Michael was trying to find the right way to approach the subject of Jenny's fate in his life, her future with him

"… is Brian okay?"

"Yeah… of course he is. You heard the doctor. Brian just needs to take things easy. Don't worry about him. He's trying to make sure the ground remains under his feet today, is all. Extra cautions, make safer humans."

"… is he sleepin'?" Jenny glanced over her shoulder, she could see Brian curled up on the couch.

"Nah, don't think so. He's resting his eyes." Michael took a longer glance toward Brian than Jenny had. He knew what to watch for. Yeah, Brian appeared restful, peaceful. "I'll be going in soon to wake him up."

"… oh, why?"

" 'Cause I like poking at him, annoying him." Michael joked, not knowing if he really had to go into the discussion about waking people up every so often who had been hit in the head. "Jen..." This would be as good a time as any to broach his subject.

"… yeah,, Daddy."

"May I ask you a question?"

"… I guess."

"This is really silly, but if your mother and I gave you the chance to choose -- _on your own_ \-- would you go back to Toronto or would you stay here?" Michael was trying not to step on toes, treading lightly. He wanted to be fair to everyone. "And, sweetie… I want you to be as honest with me as you can." He grabbed for her hand. "I will always love you, no matter what choice you make."

"… well, back home -- in Toronto… there's mommy, an' Gus… an' Linds... I miss 'em like they miss me..."

Michael sat back, sensing Jenny's genuine love and care for her "family", even through the grief and battles. It was what she had as her own, for four years. Any normal person would be hurt by the slight, but Michael couldn't help feeling exactly like he and Brian had. Though they had intolerable and senselessly cruel family lives, it had been theirs, alone. "It's all right to feel that way. I understand."

"… but i's weird... when 'm home, I miss 'em too... sumtimes, I don' like yellin' an' fightin'... mommy an' linds -- mommy an' Gus -- Linds an' Gus... there's nice times too... but when i's bad, I don' like talkin' out loud... so I get quiet... I hide, in my room...”

  
Michael knew the longer Jenny had stayed out of her own life and the distraught environment in Toronto, the better her perspective had become. Jenny could see her emotions for what they had been and comprehend why she felt them. "I'm here, baby. You know you can tell me anything. I won't be angry." 

"… bein' wit' you an' Brian... I feel differ'n't... I don' like silence anymore, 'cuz stuffs in my head... you an' Brian don' fight... I don' see you fight like mommy an' linds... I like it here, at home... I don' wanna hide no more... I like playin' outside... an' if I live here, I wanna have some othur kids to play wit'...”

 

Michael felt the squeeze of Jenny's hand to reassure him. She needed him to know she loved him, beyond words. He had done everything right, made the bad into good. "Your home is here with me -- _always_." 

"… an' Brian?" Jenny's eyes darted toward the living room. She realized she looked too long for her father to realize how she felt. "… I didn' know who Brian wuz 'til he came an' got me... I knew Gus had a Daddy too, but never…" She shook her head. "… he's…" She lifted her teary eyes to her father's equally filled ones. "… my first real bes' frien'... he never makes me feel dum' or stoopid... 'm silly sumtimes, but we can be silly togethur... silly can be fun.... I like laughin'... I, uh--" She tried to wipe away the quickly falling tears, her father's thumbs helped out.

"He really scared you today, didn't he?"

"… yup, my heart hurt an'… my tummy felt funny."

"I was scared, too."

"… you were?... but yur brave, Daddy."

" _Am I?_ " Michael was touched that Jenny would think that about him. " _You really think so?_ "

"… yup, like those pretty men who save Princesses..."

"… Oh, gawd… _that_ brave?" Michael took a huge swallow of iced tea. "I'm not sure Brian would like knowing you see him as a 'princess'." He actually liked the idea, but he didn't dare let Brian know.

"… Daddy... you know what I mean." Jenny slapped his arm lightly. A smile on her lips.

"Yeah, I do. I just--my imagination runs away with me sometimes."

Jenny took some time to think. And like she told Brian, she said the exact thing to her father. "… I wasn't scar'd for Brian 'cuz you were there... I was… wow… you were smart an' made him all better." The memory still caught her in amazement.

"Yeah… he tends to bring my 'hero' side out quite often. He's also a pretty special guy in his own right. Special to both of us, huh?"

Jenny nodded her head with a wide smile on her face. "… he makes me laugh... an's _reallyreallyreally_ kind an' a nice frien'... he reads me my storybooks, but tells jokes an' stuff... I like it most when he tells me stories he makes up."

" _Brian has 'stories'? Like fairy tale stories? Like your storybook stories?_ " Michael was flabbergasted to know this fact about Brian. _Was Brian actually sharing stories of he and Michael… in their youth? Hmm…_

"… I dunno... I guess. … he doesn' read from a book... he said they're in his head." Jenny knocked on her own forehead, like you would a door. "… jumbl'd like puzzles so no one can know anythin'..."

Michael loved that analogy for Brian. "You're gonna be one strange kid when you grow up." He knew he should regain control of the conversation before they made it all about Brian and reliving this morning. "But, though you like it here… you still miss Mommy, Lindsay and Gus?"

"… yeah, I do... 'm sorry, Daddy."

"Oh, Jen, don't be. It's really okay. See this smile…” Michael pointed tot he broad grin on his lips. “... it's because you're happy. I've always wanted what you wanted most for yourself. I'm not trying to cover up bad feelings inside."

"… I wanna stay longur... I know they miss me an' wan' me back home.” Jenny stated clearly, knowing she was right because of the phone call with her Mommy earlier in the week.

"Uhm… that's why I asked you this question." Michael knew Jenny was possibly thinking things weren't as different as they had grown into in such a short time.

"… did I say a good ans'er?"

"Sweetie, there really _isn't_ a right or wrong answer. In truth, you never made a decision, either. You gave good arguments for _both_ sides and you made me understand _what you feel_. That was the intelligent reply I was expecting from you."

"… Daddy… are mommy an' Linds okay?"

"Lindsay seems all right, I suppose. But your Mommy… that's something I don't know if we'll be able to find out. Right now, I have to say… _no, she isn't_."

Jenny sat stunned. "… wha's wrong?"

"Your Mommy and Lindsay have discovered that they can no longer _be together_. _Living together in the same house._ "

"… 'cuz of the shoutin'?" Jenny dropped her eyes, in thought.

"Mostly."

"… an' Gus an' Linds... they okay too?" Jenny raised her head to look at her father.

"Lindsay is shocked, as she should be, but she's trying to build another home for her and Gus. Without your Mommy, it's kind of hard to do."

"… does mommy hate us, like she sumtimes says?"

 _Christ!_ Michael shut his eyes. "No, Jen. Baby, Mommy is in a _very dark place_ right now. You remember how you felt, before you came here with Brian and me?"

"… yup... I do." Jenny crossed her arms over her chest. "… mommy feels scar'd too… like me?"

Michael nodded his head in agreement. "Sometimes she felt like that. Scared of what her life was turning into and how much she couldn't control any of it. Like… no matter how many people she's in a room with… she still feels alone. Like no matter how angry she becomes, it's followed by an intense sense of sadness. No matter how hard she screams or fights, no one is really listening or understanding her."

"… is she gonna get help… like me?"

“Yeah, but, unfortunately her complications and pain are a little more severe to handle. She might have to go away, somewhere, so other people can tend to her needs. She feels ashamed of what she's done, how she's ended up. She's a little confused about what she wants and who she is. Unsure of being able to handle other people around her, for now. She _is certain_ of one thing, though.” Michael reached out to touch Jenny's shoulder, soothing. “I'm sure of it.”

"… oh? what?"

"You. She knows you love her, still. Even though she's made your life difficult. She loves you. Loves you enough to leave you in good hands."

"… is Linds comin' to pick me up soon?" Jenny was a little relieved to know people were taking care of her mother, because she hadn't known how to help and her mother didn't really want Jenny's help, either. And even knowing that, Jenny felt a bit of sadness.

"No. Not really."

"... where do I go, Daddy?" Jenny was a bit stunned into disquiet with her future, where she would live now.

Jenny was breaking Michael's heart. "You stay here… with me…" This was the first time he had ever said the words aloud, for his own ears to hear.

"… an' Brian?" Jenny's eyes grew wide, startled as the tears reemerged.

"Yesss, Lady Jenny… and me…" Brian's voice came out of the darkness of the living room. He had woken himself up, which was a very good sign for Michael. Brian stood next to Jenny's chair, reaching down to scrape the back of two fingers down her cheek, feeling wetness. He knelt on the floor, his face now level with Jenny. "You happy?" He raised an eyebrow in question.

Jenny tilted her face to Brian's touch. She nodded her head, shyly. "No lie?" She knew he tended to make jokes of lots of things.

"Hey… would _this face_ lie?" Brian pointed to his face.

Jenny gave Brian a “glare”, to which he smirked.

"Okay… granted _this face of mine_ has launched a thousand lies… _not this time_." Brian shook his head.

"How long?" Jenny still didn't comprehend what this meant for her life and future.

Brian glanced up at the ceiling, then back to Jenny. "How long do _you_ feel like staying?"

Jenny wiped at her tears with both hands. "Uhm… is forever okay?"

"Oh… I don't know, Lady Jenny…" Brian growled, snatching Jenny out of her chair and holding her sideways under his arms. "... I think we can make those arrangements for her Ladyship." He made a swift turn as if he would head into the living room or maybe upstairs, with his baggage under his arm. "Okay, Michael… where shall we put her? The living room? Next to the window or fireplace?"

Michael smiled behind his hand. He was caught, speechless and breathless at the same time. The two people in front of him always did that. Just took his breath away, yet could break his heart so easily.

Jenny couldn't stop giggling, her face now going red from blood rushing to her head. "Brian…" She held onto his hip and butt. "… watch out… your head…"

Brian looked behind him. "What about it?"

"… sit down… you'll fall ah-gain…" Jenny demanded on a chuckle.

Brian sat as Jenny commanded. He flipped her around so she sat, righted on his lap. She grabbed onto the table ledge to stop the world, in front of her eyes, from spinning.

"… thank you." Jenny shook her head to clear her vision.

"Anytime, Jenny-boo." Brian pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, wiping away remnants of tears.

Jenny sat back against Brian's chest, looking at him with a signature crooked grin. She felt his radiant warmth from sleep, it drew her closer. "… you wan' me to stay?"

Brian wrapped both arms about Jenny's little body, tightly hugging her close. "Yes, I do. I _reallyreallyreally_ do. _IdoIdoIdoIdoIdo_ …" He was almost making a soft song of it into her ear.

"… can mommy come visit?"

"Uh… don't know.” Brian wasn't about to let Jenny see his pettiness for Melanie Marcus, since she was Jenny's mother. “I know **I** don't want to see her, but you can."

"Brian..." Jenny understood there was some strong feelings between Brian and her mother, often seeing it when he used to visit back home in Toronto.

"Okay… for you, Lady Jenny, I will _try_ to be civil. I know she loves you and you love her, but she's hurt too many of the people I love."

"… you love me?" Jenny turned wide eyes on Brian, a hidden smile on her mouth.

"Yeah… _why's that so hard to believe?_ "

"… I dunno... you don' hafta love me... but i's okay if you do."

"Oh, really… _why's that?_ "

"… 'cuz... I love you too."

Brian had to swallow quickly or he wouldn't have been able to talk at all. " _Sweet! Mutual Love. Love-a-rama. Love Fest. Love-a-palooza._ " He continued to kiss and tickle Jenny until she went batty with giggles and smiles. He saw how oddly Michael was looking over at him. " _What? Jealous?_ "

" _Envious._ But… I can wait."

Brian read it clearly through Michael's eyes - _ **"I have you all to myself, later tonight."**_ \- and he felt the powerful sense of dominance. " _Oooo… oh, my…_ " He feigned fake fear.

"How do you feel?" Michael asked in all seriousness.

"Good. Refreshed. Raring to go another knockout round or two."

"You still wanna try that restaurant?"

Brian looked for a wall clock. " _Why?_ Is it _that_ late already? _Christ!_ " He saw it was only a little after one o'clock. " _Oh, Dear God…_ I'm not a fragile flower, Michael. I'll be fine by tonight. So… what do _we_ usually _do_ around this time?"

"… we watch TV… or videos… or play a game…" Jenny supplied the answer. "… Daddy, start'd me on some stuff for when I go to school...."

Brian was impressed and looked to Michael, nodding his approval.

Michael felt he needed to clarify. He wasn't being smothering to Jenny, like his own mother had been. "I'm only doing some light math… some words… reading a few things. Small stuff, just so it's not so scary."

"Kindergarten. Jenny… it's a _humdinger_ of a joyride." Brian told Jenny, imparting his adult wisdom.

" _Really?_ "

"I don't really know… I've kind of forgotten everything before I met your father." Brian winked across at Michael.

"… oh, did you meet Daddy at my age?" Jenny looked between Brian and her father.

Brian chuckled deeply, shaking his head. "No."

"Think your life would have been any better had we?" Michael raised a curious eyebrow.  


"Uh… I'm not really sure. I'd hate to find out and screw it up more than I have." 

"Agreed."

The kitchen phone rang.

Michael looked at Brian. "Well… it's not _you_ calling _me_." He got up from his chair to go get the wall extension.

"Obviously." Brian waited to discover who happened to be calling this early in the afternoon.

" _ **… 'ello?**_ " Michael paced to the fridge, fixing a magnet and piece of paper. " _ **uh-huh… yeah… uh… wait a minute…**_ " He covered the mouthpiece to take a look back at Brian seated at the dining room table. "It's a guy -- Enzio? Do you know--?"

"Yeah." Brian slowly rose out of the chair, depositing Jenny on the seat cushion. He moved to the living room to pick up the cordless. " _ **Hey… Enzio!? Yeah… this is Brian Kinney. Hey… yeah…**_ " He started to stroll away toward the front widow. " _ **Oh… okay… do you mind telling me why?**_ "

Jenny scooted off her seat, picking up her plate, willing to come back and get her father's dishes in a bit. She ventured into the kitchen, placing the items in the sink.

Michael hung up the phone. He took something from Jenny's hand to place back in the fridge. When he closed the door, his eyes became fixated on what he had been touching on the fridge surface. They were Brian's discharge instructions. He thought he had seen a word that stuck out to him, so he moved the magnet a little over… and his mouth hung open. _No fuckin' way…_ a particular sentence stood out for him, and he shut his mouth and eyes. _Crap…_ Brian would be pissed… _royally pissed_. He would wait for a moment of peace to break the bad news. It had been difficult enough to get Brian to go to the damn hospital. _Now this…_

_How could they be this cruel?_ Not only to Brian and his very nature, but to Michael. _Could he bear it?_

Brian returned to the dining room, taking the chair Michael had left and hadn't retaken. "Well… that was the Chef whose restaurant we were going to go to tonight." He handed the dishes Michael had used to Jenny.

" _Yeah?_ " Michael solemnly walked back to take a different seat. The discharge sheet in his hand, folded in half. " _… how is he?_ "

"Family medical emergency. He would like for me to come _another_ night. _Is that okay with you?_ "

"Oh, yeah… it's fine." Michael then pushed the paper toward Brian. "It's _this_ I'm upset about."

" _What?_ " Brian asked out of curiosity. He opened the paper to see his hospital instruction sheet. " _What's--?_ "

Michael's finger pointed to right where he wanted Brian to look.

" _ **OH… Hell No!!**_ " Brian wished his chair had rollers, then he could forcefully push himself backward. So, instead he got up. " _… no fuckin' way!_ They can x-ray me… poke me… probe me… I'll even take their medicines and let you attend to me like you're fuckin' Florence Nightingale. But I draw the line at _this_ …" He roughly pushed the paper back for Michael to have. He stood up, prepared to leave the room. He didn't want to hear another word about it.

"Brian… _don't_ …" Michael wasn't sure Brian could make it up the stairs, but he was definitely determined to run the full gamut of his frustrations out in his tirade. His anger was drawing him there anyway. Michael was chuckling behind his hand, his own frustration dissipating by watching Brian get irate. And looking utterly charming and adorable.

"No… Michael…" Brian came back down only to make his point. "… they can control _some_ things, but they're _not_ telling me _where_ and _when_ I can have sex with you again. _I won't do it._ _Not gonna… won't eveh… an' not possible. S_ o there… I'm gonna shower. I feel icky. Join me if you want. I'll be up here for awhile So don't get worried."

Michael wished he could follow, just to make sure Brian's anger wasn't genuine. He knew it wasn't. Brian would be fine. No one was going to command over Brian Kinney's bed. Michael went to help Jenny continue to clean the dining room table, the kitchen and then the dishes.

 

Busy work tended to take sex off Michael's mind, but it only worked for so long. 

~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~

Michael and Jenny were playing a board game downstairs at the dining room table with Hunter. He was joining in the family festivities, then would join them for dinner, again.

Brian was upstairs, no longer perturbed about “no sex for three days”… _but god…_ the ache it initially brought him had been overwhelming. He knew he joked about it, but it had honestly hurt. It was like someone was taking away his right to exist. Sex with Michael was… _life affirming_ , not to mention educational and thrilling and mouth watering and… he should stop with the adjectives because he could very well hurt himself right in this wooden swivel chair.

Shortly before Hunter arrived, Michael had come upstairs to check on Brian. He had missed the shower and even missed Brian's small catnap. He did catch Brian in his office, briefcase open and files strewn over the desk and on the twin bed behind him. But Brian couldn't touch a damn thing. It was like his mind was draining. Of everything he had learned in school and college too. He just… wanted to melt into these three days and get them over with.

Michael attempted to be of some help, but Brian simply let him sit in his lap and talk away about what he was going to do about the store and the interviews. Just something to fill the time and keep Brian from going crazy. Brian didn't mind the intrusion, especially when Michael sat over his crotch and played with his hair like it needed the styling. Michael had left once Hunter arrived. He mentioned to Brian to make sure he came to some kind of middle ground in his work when supper was ready in another hour or so. Brian was left alone again.

A half-hour later, Brian was still sitting, contemplating… and spinning. Spinning helped more than anything. His client's product driving him insane. Which ways were better to serve the client, but yet… completely satisfy the consumer? His cell phone rang on the desk, but he had hooked the line up his Bluetooth ear clip. He didn't even have the strength to check his LCD screen to make sure it wasn't anybody calling to annoy him.

"Brian Kinney."

" _Hey, Brian. It's me._ "

_Dammit… too late_ . 

Brian sat up from his slouched position. "Hey... me... how are you today?"

Lindsay lightly chuckled, a certain dread in her voice. " _Brian… stop. We need to talk. Or… I need to ask you a question._ "

“I thought we talked already.” Brian wondered what more needed to be discussed. “You and Gus will be flying in on Friday morning. And you will be here by late afternoon."

  
" _We forgot one thing._ " 

" _Which was?_ " Brian knew _he_ hadn't.

" _Where will Gus and I stay? We all can't be in the loft. I know it's large and it's your home, but not for three people. If Gus were still a baby, maybe, but--_ "

"I'm Brian Kinney." Brian didn't mean to sound so egotistical, but sometimes Lindsay brought it out of him. “I've got it covered, Linds.”

" _Oh.. well, you didn't exactly tell me._ " Lindsay sounded frustrated already.

"I knew where you'd be staying once we got off the phone. I thought…" Brian really wished Lindsay didn't let him assume so much of their talks, then maybe he wouldn't piss her off so much. “... since you hadn't made your own suggestions, that you were leaving it in my hands.”

" _Where?_ "

"Michael's. There's already a bedroom for Gus… and, uh, you'll get the master bedroom."

" _Michael's? Why is he--? Why?_ "

"Because that's where **I** am." Brian knew this day would come, but if he was witty enough and sarcasm oozed forth… maybe he could cover his tracks. He realized how much of this conversation he could control.

" _With Jenny?_ "

"Yeah. She _is_ Michael's daughter."

" _Does Ben mind?_ "

"Don't know. Don't care." Brian could admit everything right here, but… this was too much fun. "Michael and I aren't asking Ben's opinion." There… that was enough mystery to keep Lindsay guessing.

" _Wait… what? What's going on Brian? What's happened?_ "

"Why? What's it to you?" Brian pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing for another distraction to take him away. "Lindsay, you have a place to stay for the weekend, before you leave for your new job on Monday. Isn't that enough?"

" _What's going on with the loft?_ "

"None of your business. It's mine… and I can do what I want with it."

" _Are you selling it?_ " Lindsay waited, but Brian wasn't saying much of anything. He--he kind of sounded like he was angry with her. He was justified, but he usually cut her some slack. " _Brian?_ "

"Maybe. I don't know." Brian shrugged, then realized Lindsay couldn't see him shrug through the phone.

" _Where's Michael going to sleep?_ "

Brian really shouldn't be smiling this much, but it tickled him to say this out loud, but yet admit to nothing. "With me."

" _Brian! Wha--?_ "

"Like I said… _nun-ya-biz-ness_ …" Brian figured he should take all of Lindsay's calls when he was feeling this way.

" _You're cranky and cryptic. Were you asleep when I called?_ "

"Nah, I'm working. Or at least _trying_ to work."

" _Oh, well… tell Cynthia I said 'Hi'._ "

Brian then looked around him, recalling that he would have been at work, but Lindsay was clueless to that reasoning. "I will when I see her."

A huge gap of silence followed.

" _You have all our flight information?_ " Lindsay began the dying discussion.

"Yes." Brian leaned his head back on the chair.

" _Did you get the directions I emailed to you?_ "

"Yes." Brian began to spin his chair with his feet.

" _Brian..._ "

"Yes…" Brian had zoned out. The call was actually boring him more. What was Lindsay's point to this entire talk? "… uh, oh… sorry…"

" _I know you're busy, so I'll let you go. But I wanted to say that I really appreciate what you're doing for me and your son._ "

Brian hated when she called Gus his "son". Like he would be something else... like a vegetable or a meat product. He sat back up, fixing his ear piece. "I know. You and I, _sometime soon_ , are going to need to seriously sit down and talk about this situation. I'm no longer going to sit on the sidelines, got it? I'm playing _in_ the fuckin' game this time."

Lindsay shut her eyes. This was the talk she was dreading. Facing her mistakes. " _I'm sorry, Brian. We can fix this. I know it. Together, you and I can fix this problem._ "

"Gus… is _not_ a problem." Brian rubbed a hand over his face. "Is this all?"

" _Yeah… but I, uh… I sometimes need to hear your voice._ "

_Blammo!! What?The Fuck?_

Brian closed his eyes, realizing he would need to nip this baby in the bud sooner rather than later. "Lindsay, I'm not--I can't--" _Wow…_ he was actually going to hurt Lindsay's feelings and he felt bad. Kind of crappy. Not guilty, just saddened. She had brought them to this point. "I'm not going to be Melanie's replacement for you. I have my own life to live. Yes, you and I have a son, Gus… but _nothing more_. We're _friends_ , that's where it's got to end. I'm not about to yo-yo emotions with you anymore."

" _Brian, look… I realize how upset this has made you, but--_ "

"We're both adults here, let's start acting like we are. I--I have to focus on Gus now. I'm obligated to finally _be_ a father so he knows one of his parents is cool with who he is. I can't have you hanging off me, all googly-eyed and panting after me… thinking there's going to be _something more_. It began and ended with Gus."

Lindsay's connection was quiet, as if she's disappeared. " _I, uh… I'm speechless. This isn't usually like you. I was looking for a friendly shoulder to cry on._ "

"We both got one another through some tough times and we've somewhat evened the score. But _this_ \--this is bordering on an unhealthy relationship. You and I will always… _always_ be good friends, but it's time you know there's a line you have crossed with me."

" _I--I--I'm not doing well with losing Mel. For good, this time. I just don't know what I'd do if something happened between you and I. I can't lose you too._ "

"Lindsay, you're not. I'm here. I'm fuckin' helping you take care and raise our son properly with a loving home and a strong family life. What more do you want from me?"

" _You--you sound so confident in what you want--what you want for Gus too. I can almost admire it._ "

"Lindsay, if I can do one good deed for you, it's to tell you this... if it was meant to be, it _would be_ and it _will be_. Don't try to make something beautiful out of something really, _really_ shitty."

" _Mel and I had seven years together. We had Gus. We had a wonderful life, but then… I don't know… it all fell apart. Us trying to put us and one another back together._ "

"Were they _all_ wonderful?" Brian doubted that only because he had spent a few times being Lindsays' “shoulder to cry on” prior to them marrying.

" _Huh?_ "

" _The years_ … _were they all wonderful?_ Because, if my memory serves me correctly, there were some bad patches and some snags along the way. Maybe you two lasted the years you were supposed to… and that was it. Who the fuck knows." Brian rubbed at an eye, feeling sleepiness enter his body. "I can tell you… you both need a good long break from one another. And _you_ need to find out who you are... and fucking _be_ it, stick with it. Even if that 'it' means you're alone and so fuckin' lonely you ache from loss. Being in a bad relationship tends to show you how you've forgotten how to love the most important person in your life… _yourself_."

" _Wow…_ " Lindsay's voice sounded small and soft, like she was really listening for once. " _Have you started going to therapy, Brian?_ "

"No, I've come to a realization that I've had some good people in my life and they've taught me some worthwhile things I need to believe in. I've only just begun to utilize their teachings."

" _Thank you. I know you meant every word from the bottom of, if not somewhere in, your heart._ " Lindsay shook her head in wonder. " _Are you sure you're not in therapy?_ "

"Read a copy of Cosmo in the ER waiting room this morning."

" _COSMO? ER? Brian… it's not Jenny, is it?_ "

"None of your business, but it wasn't Jenny. Glad you called. Gotta run."

" _Uh, okay… g'bye, Brian. And, I mean it, thanks for the unsolicited advice. Boy… you and Michael are a pair, aren't you? You both have made some good points. Maybe I'll start listening for once._ "

"Just say we were right and you and Mel have been wrong like you know you want to." Brian knew that didn't sound cool, but… _what the hell_. "Bye, Lindsay."

" _See you Friday._ "

"Yup." Brian rang off and proceeded to bury his head in his arms on his desktop.

That had been harder than it looked. _Whew!_ He… well, he kind of felt refreshed. Energized. He had told Lindsay off, but in a very calming, yet nurturing Brian Kinney way. He even impressed himself. He looked at the clock and decided to close his briefcase. He would head downstairs to join in the fun before dinner.

_God, man…_ the three days didn't look that torturous for some reason. Well… the sex could always be negotiable, because with Michael… touching fingers alone could be considered sex. 

~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~

"Okay… now… where were we…"

"… Rudy… he ran away…"

"That's right. He busted out of that dilapidated joint… _and why?_ "

Both Brian and Jenny were seated on the bed, Indian style, facing one another. The book sitting between them. Brian was in dark blue striped pajama bottoms and a navy blue wife-beater; Jenny was in one of her traditional thick nightgowns that reached her ankles. Michael was laying on the other side of the bed, leafing through a pile of applications. He was matching them with the interview checklists he had been using during his meetings with the potential employees.

Jenny went on to discuss what had been leading up to the point they were at now in the book. "… he thinks his frien' -- _Mr. Butterchurn_ …"

Brian didn't think that was the right name. " _Buttworth._ "

Jenny giggled, because it sounded funny.

The scraping of paper-on-paper was heard, Michael clearing his throat. "It's _Butterworth_. _Mr. Butterworth_. _Farmer Butterworth_. _Neither_ of you got it right."

Brian and Jenny shrugged, not really caring if the “peanut gallery” spoke up or not. They went back to their conversation.

Jenny tried her explanation again, with the correct name. "… Rudy thinks Mr. _Butt-er-wor-th_ … was gonna kill him… skin him… an' eat him in a stew for supper."

" _Right!_ " Brian nodded his head in agreement. " _Wait! What? Really?_ Back up. The book… _a children's book for your age group says_ … 'kill, skin, eat'…?" He tried to find the page where the words were printed.

Michael saw Brian's frantic parental worry. He wanted to laugh, because Brian wanting to censor a children's book seemed hilarious to him. "Brian, you would have passed the part last night."

Brian stopped looking, turning to look at Michael. "For your information, both Jenny and I were exhausted." He swiveled to face Jenny. "I know! Why don't we start this story over again." He shut the book and palmed the spine as if to slide off the mattress and run back to Jenny's bedroom to find the first book in the popular children's series.

Jenny raised a bewildered eyebrow, not sure if she agreed to that or not.

"There are _sixteen books_ to Rudy's story, Brian.” Michael shook his head in complete doubt to Brian's calm and patience with storytelling from an actual storybook. “You're already on the _tenth one_."

Brian decided Michael was feeling bored or neglected… _or both_. He completely turned to face Michael. "Look… _Mr. Rudy, The Rabbit Aficionado and Party Pooper_ … you may have some specific, magnificently special rulebook _you_ follow when reading storybooks, but I--I take a free-spirited approach to my reading."

" _What?_ _If the ending sucks… move onto something else?_ "

"No… I'm just finding out I'd feel better reading this if I had a parental Cliff's Notes version. There's no telling what I've missed. I've been reading her _these books_ for the past few weeks. _Do you know how much energy it takes for me to care about a fictional rabbit with bi-polar and anti-social issues?_ Now, I'm on the tenth book and you chose to tell me that I've sucked myself into the _Rudy Realm of Constant Sorrow and Bouts of Serious Depression_. Tell me -- _whom is this_ _ **Butterchurn**_ _guy?_ _And why does Rudy_ _ **not know why**_ _he should love him yet leave him or stay and be violently abused to the point of death and being served as his next supper?_ _Somehow_ I've become lost _somewhere_ and I need _something_ explained. Or I will kill that damn bunny myself and end his self-torturing soul--" Brian had stopped… because he heard something weird beginning right next to him. Something he hadn't ever heard before.

Jenny had begun to smile while her father and Brian's bantering had started, but now she was doubled over onto the mattress and couldn't stop laughing. She had watched Brian get riled up about Rudy… and the books… then looked at how calm and steady her father appeared, every so often paying attention to Brian's tirade. The smile on her father's face was what made her start.

Michael peered over his knees, then dropped his legs and stared. Brian stared open-mouthed, not sure what Jenny was doing or when she would stop. They were both worried until she had fallen over on the bed, onto her side… so free, joyful and stretched out on their beautiful bed. Lost in her own happiness.

"Jenny, _wha-?_ " Michael had scooted up from his seat on the headboard. He was aligned with Brian on the bed.

Jenny shook her head. "… sorry, Daddy.... you an' Brian…" She giggled, her shoulders shaking. "… you make me so happy... I hafta laugh… an' you two are yellin' -- kinda… i's--i's--" She held her belly, then patted it to fix her nightgown's material. "… so differ'nt... I like it… an' I have it… forever, like you said.... whooo, this is fun...” Now that they were silent, Jenny was simply reacting to giddiness still in her body.

Brian had no idea how to reply. He glanced at Michael, his brow raising just as Michael's was… and they both couldn't stop grinning. Jenny was becoming _a child_ … _carefree and innocen_ t… _just being a kid_. Not a little adult trapped in a child's body. She was allowed to be who she always wanted and… _from her own lips_ … it was all due to _them_.

Michael was about ready to approach Jenny, but Brian had this portion covered. It also gave him a good _in_ to telling her about Gus. He placed a gentle hand on Michael's forearm, squeezing. Michael covered Brian's hand, squeezing in kind.

"Say, Lady Jenny…" Brian moved about to stretch along with Jenny. His elbow bent to hold up his head. "… tell me, was it worth it? Breaking out of Toronto and coming here?"

Jenny looked up at the design of the canopy above the bed. She liked it. Simple yet… interesting. "… I love it here.... an' the house..." Her head turned toward her father. "… Daddy…" Then her eyes shifted to Brian's face, hovering nearby. "… you… the store an' being able to help out… Gran'ma's Diner… all the people you an' Daddy know… Ted, Em… I like Hun'er… he's cool... I dunno... I wuz tir'd of bein' sad..."

Brian reached out his free hand to touch a fingertip, tenderly, to Jenny's arm. "May I ask you something?"

"… uh-huh... what?" Jenny decided she would lay like Brian, facing him.

"It's Gus."

"Is he okay?" Jenny's brow wrinkled since she now knew about the problems with her Mommy and Lindsay.

"With everything that's going on with your Mom and Lindsay… Gus is going to need some help."

"… help from me?" Jenny put her free palm on her tiny chest. No adults had ever asked her for her help. Ever.

Michael drew up behind Brian, relaxing on top of Brian's hip. He simply watched the discussion between Brian and Jenny in amazement.

"Help… _from you_ … _from me and your father_. _From all of us_."

"Oh..." That made much more sense. Gus always treated her all right, like a pain-in-the-butt younger sibling, so she had kept her distance. But then some days, he could be very kind. She just couldn't tell when that would happen. "… is he gonna be okay... wit' mommy not there?"

"I think so. He felt like you did, before you came here. I hope he'll get better. He got into some trouble while you've been gone."

"Really?" Jenny knew probably how too. "… wit' the boys he wuz hangin' wit'?"

"You've seen them before?" Brian moved to lay on his stomach, drawing his arms up and crossing them to lay his head on, like a pillow. This caused Michael to move too. He straightened out his legs, aligning with Brian and relaxing fully at Brian's back.

"… yup, but Gus didn' bring 'em into the house... he always follows rules..."

" _House rules?_ " Brian lifted his head as Jenny's head slowly nodded. " _... shit..._ " He was continuing to find out what was really going on and being blown away constantly.

"… they were okay, but... mommy got upset a lot if they didn' get done or not follow'd the way she lik'd..."

" _Angry? Angry enough to hurt?_ "

" _Hurt?_ " Jenny furrowed her brow.

" _Did your Mom use any kind of physical force to make Gus listen?_ "

"No…" Jenny shook her head, but then she really didn't know what Brian was asking. "… I don' think so." She saw how worried Brian had become. She sat up, drawing over to him. She began to pet his forearm. "… he's okay, Brian... I know it." She sat back, her thoughts wandering. "… is Gus comin' here, wit' Linds?"

"Gus will be living here with us. Not for long. Until Lindsay finishes her new job and finds a more permanent job and home for them. Once she does, she'll come back and take Gus with her."

"… does Gus need a bedroom?... 'cuz I have one."

Brian chuckled, shaking his head. She was so like her father. "I know you do, Lady Jenny… but that's _your_ room."

Michael snickered. "I'm not sure Gus likes pink, sweetie."

Brian nodded his head, but grabbed for Jenny's hand. "I feel better knowing you'd give up your room for your brother… even if he is Gus."

Jenny smiled. "… he's yur son, right?"

"Yeah?"

"… an' yur my Daddy's guy, right?"

"Yeah… unfortunately for him, I am." Brian felt the soft spank to his buttcheek. “Ow...”

"… an' 'm Daddy's girl?" This time, Jenny looked directly at her father.

"Yeah… always…" Michael nudged Brian under him. "Don't forget Brian's girl too."

Jenny nodded her head in agreement, then went on. "… an' Gus an' I share mommies… m mommy an' his mommy were together…"

"Yes, Lady Jenny…" Brian knew Jenny was leading up to some type of conclusion through her tiny brilliant mind.

"… an' if tha's all... then ev'ryone's fam'ly... Gus's fam'ly... he _can_ stay."

Brian didn't know what to say. In Jenny's childlike mind, she had figured everything out on her own. He was pretty choked up by her sentiment. _I love Brian, I love Brian's son... he's good people_. "You rock my world, Jenny-boo." He leaned over to snag her close.

Jenny looked down at Brian. "… I'll rock yours back."

" _Oh! You will, will you?!?!_ " Brian brought out his hands, scrunching his fingers like an attacking tickle monster. " _Comin'… to… get… you…_ "

“ _No! Brian…! I'm nice! Don't tick--!_ ”

_Too late._

Brian removed himself slowly from under Michael and snatched Jenny's foot, dragging her across the mattress. She was reaching out for her father's hand, while laughing. "You're mine. I've got you." He picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of flour. "I shall come back, Cap'n Mikey… _Argh_ … and I shall discover your fabulous booty, _Argh_ …"

For some reason, Brian's tickle monster voice had a penchant for changing tones. Tonight was a pirate's voice, while yesterday had been some Eastern European scientist. Who knew who he would be tomorrow.

Unpredictable… and completely lovable. _Yeah… Michael's guy…_

  
**~~TBC...**


	11. Chapter 11

  
**Bedroom - Friday Morning**   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

He was pretty sure the noises he heard were part of his dream. Maybe he made the sounds himself. But one thing he had been definite about... he was hot... scorching... molten lava. He had been chilled, not cold, when he fell asleep with the warm body by his side. As he sunk deeper into dreams, the chill almost froze him. So he sought heat, not having to go far to find the radiance. He burrowed deeper, but now the warmth almost burned him, searing his nakedness.

So... he woke up.

Brian lifted his head, glancing about to check out the scene. He wrinkled his brow, not really knowing where he was. He had tucked his face in a trifecta of softness, warmth and human scent. Michael had been laying on his back, caught in a half-turn. He was either coming to or pulling from Brian.

Brian's race to catch Michael's sudden movement had trapped him mid-turn. Brian's face had buried in the in between curve of Michael's neck and the mattress. They were sharing Michael's pillow. As Brian lifted more to look down their meshed bodies, all he saw was the monochromatic material of the light top sheet to the bed linens. He let his head fall back on plushness, groaning. Michael must have covered him, in an unconscious move to help aide Brian's growing need for warmth.

Now... it was like Brian was on fire. He shuffled a little, resting his cheek on the round bone of Michael's shoulder. He was about to attempt to crawl from underneath, slinking away body part by body part, but he stopped when his palm barely scraped Michael's chest. He discovered where the "heat" had been emanating from all along.

Michael was burning, throughout his body frame.

Scooting to look down at Michael's face, Brian put the back of his hand on the pale forehead. No. No fever. Not even a trace of sweat. The hand moved down the cheek. No, still nothing. But when Brian reached the neck, collarbone and upper chest... the heat began to build. Brian didn't doubt if he went further down the "invisible flames" would be intense.

_Christ!_ Two days. Two whole nights of no real sex, meaning _intercourse_ . Michael always fell asleep content, but as the early morning sun rose so did Michael Novotny. Brian could usually contain himself, able to control the hardness. Michael? Not so much. 

This was the second morning Brian had found Michael in this unbearable condition. Yesterday morning, he had caught the reaction in time, Michael easily waking up. They almost hadn't lasted the first night. By morning, they had to take separate showers, if only to give one another some "private" time to collect themselves. They knew what each had done, at breakfast curiously asking one another the "trigger" that set them off.

Michael had closed the store again, staying home to watch over Brian and Jenny. He told Brian he would return to work on Friday, when Brian would be picking up Lindsay and Gus from the airport. Brian would be gone most of the day. Michael knew, on their last day of agreed abstinence, they both would be entertaining their minds with other things besides sex and one another.

It wasn't that Brian didn't want Michael, that would _never_ happen. But it had come down on them as Doctor's Orders. Then it had come to Brian as Michael's worry over him and taking things easy, wanting Brian to stick around for a lifetime or two. Then Brian had a personal goal of " _ **We stayed away from one another for twenty years. Three nights is a walk in the park.**_ " But it wasn't so, not once they had been having a taste of each other.

Brian slipped away from Michael, as stealthily as he could. Once he was on his right side, a good distance from Michael, he finally settled on the cooled bed space and detached himself from Michael's feral responses. No sooner had he shut his eyes in peace, his own libido tamed... here came Michael. He was pulled to Brian's back as if magnetized. Brian would have been fine if that was all Michael did.

Brian allowed the kisses... on the nape, the shoulder blades. He even prayed he would feel those tender hands on his hips, sculpting down his abdomen and up to his breastbone. Oh, they skimmed pubic hair, but had quickly come right back to the curvature of hips, slipping over the rounded backside. Okay... that was new.

Michael then proceeded to make some kind of animal noise, purring groans or something like a muffled squeal, begging for -- well, Brian couldn't really pay close attention. He began to recognize the sounds Michael was making in the back of his throat were the same noises that woke him up. Primal and passionate. Michael's fingernails embedded in Brian's skin, clawing... clamping and yanking him flush with his thrusting pelvis.

_Uh... no!_ This was where Brian had to draw the line. 

Brian thought Michael would wake up like last morning. He turned them both, his right leg slid between Michael's thighs, locking onto Michael's right leg. His palm pushed down Michael's chest to lay him back on the mattress, eventually climbing up to grab Michael's chin from the underside of his jaw. When Michael rolled, his arms raised above his head, fingers bending back on the headboard. He made that noise again, his pelvis undulating to some imaginary body either on or in him, a rhythm began.

" _Michael..._ " Brian whispered near an ear.

The face flowed toward Brian's voice, languid eyes opened slightly, but the mind never registered reality from dream. "Kiss me now."

"Michael, I--" Brian shouldn't have hesitated. Michael's raised right arm came around his neck and locked him to his chest. The two mouths were forced to meet, one pliant and one weakening by the seconds. "Mich--wait... no... wake up..." The kissing had always been great between them. Since the sex had started, kisses became earth-shattering. What Michael was doing to Brian's lips was other-worldly. "God, I--" Brian couldn't move, didn't want to move, except to top Michael. So simple to succumb, let the baser emotion build and have intercourse. But Brian knew Michael wasn't really _present_ at the moment. He would never remember, no matter how well Brian explained it. If Brian pursued Michael's wants and needs, it would be like cheating -- but cheating on Michael _with Michael_. Sounded dumb, but logic didn't fit here.

This was Michael's "private" time. Michael was too far gone to wake up and soon he would need a release or else reality would be too painful to face. Brian decided he would allow Michael to ride out the wet dream into completion, but Brian would be here as Michael orgasmed. It felt wrong to leave Michael alone. Afterwards, when Michael was fully awake, he would be worse than embarrassed. Brian had always wanted to work this type of kink into their bed. Now was as good a time as any...

Brian worked his neck and head from under Michael's arm, keeping his own hand on Michael's neck. If Michael could feel touch on his hot skin, maybe he could cum sooner. Michael's hand reached out through mind-fog and latched onto Brian's forearm, he begged for gentle caresses on his face, neck and chest.

Brian could see Michael's length was hot against his own thigh. Once flaccid and limp, now it was full of blood, stiff as a board and pulsating red. Moving his leg, Brian gave Michael the stroking sensations he needed. He was amazed Michael never once touched himself. Never even let one finger skip down to his growing cock. Brian marveled that Michael's imagination must be pleasurable beyond any reality.

" _... yes..._ " Michael begged again in his throat. " _... yes... yes..._ " The words grew loud in tone as his ecstasy rose. His neck arched back and his pelvis jutted forward against Brian's thigh.

Brian never thought he would witness anything as intoxicating as Michael falling to pieces in his arms, from no fault of his own. He felt bereft, but knew he was probably getting a small glimpse into what had carried Michael along all those years they came so close, but never followed through. He bent his head near Michael's ear, his forehead nudging. " _I love you, Mikey._ "

" _Oh, gawd... I love you, too..._ " Michael moaned the words as if they were one, his body quaking. " _Brian..._ "

The begging undid Brian. He took his hand, palm down, beginning to delicately massage a way through the light spattering of dark hair, over the dips and curves of ribs. He barely reached the stair steps of abs when Michael arched again. Something seemed to be holding him back from release.

" _ssshhh-ssshhh-ssshhh_... I've got you, Michael." Brian told the _dream_ Michael, so the _real_ Michael could come back to him. His head turned to stare down the tiny body, watching and feeling the orgasm hit and completely shatter the sweet man under him.

Nothing ever in Brian's social sexual life was more magnificent than observing the elongation of Michael's cock, the thickening and the pulsating, as his semen spilled over Brian's thigh. Brian nearly came, himself, his own cock tight, hard and squished to Michael's body.

" _Oh... gawd... ohgodohgodohgodohgod..._ " Michael painfully groaned upon his release. The intense jolt of pleasure causing him to open his eyes fully and blink twice, recognition of the face above him causing him to go still and frown. "Brian?" Everything had seemed so real. _Had they--?_

"Michael, it's okay."

_Why did Brian sound regretful? But for who? For what?_

"What's okay?" Michael lifted his head, glancing down his body and catching sight of what had taken place while he had been... uh, dreaming. He couldn't even fathom what he had done. He was only worried about _one_ thing. "Did I--did I say anything... uh, strange?"

_That's all Michael was worried about?_

Brian chuckled, seeing the fear... _the shame_ , churning in Michael's eyes. "Michael... is that all?"

"Uh... I'm sorry?" Michael reached up to pull his pillow over his face and proceeded to muffle a scream.

Brian couldn't prevent himself from laughing out loud. He grabbed the pillow. He straightened his body to lay over Michael, keeping his leg where it was. "So what? You cum on me plenty of times." He didn't want to make a bigger deal about this than it was.

Michael rose up onto his elbows. "But when I'm asleep?"

Brian reached out to wipe a few drops of perspiration from Michael's face. He really gave himself a workout. "Hey... **I** tried to roll away. Even in sleep, your body can't get enough of my hot sex-i-ness." He softly bit a piece of chunky flesh.

"Brian..." Michael covered one hand over his face. "Don't joke about _this_. I'm humiliated as it is.

Brian lowered his torso, resting his forearms alongside Michael. He tried to nuzzle Michael's neck, dislodging the hand. "Don't be. It was the single most, sexiest... and breathtaking moment of my life..."

" _Really?_ " Michael muttered against his palm.

"Seriously." Brian nodded his head, delivering kisses in sensitive spots.

"Liar." Michael let his hand drop to Brian's shoulder, curving about the strong back, laying on the muscles.

"Don't..." Brian's face was inches from Michael's. He knew if he moved, Michael would try to escape. "Hey... you're not going anywhere."

"I wanna wash up. I'm all sticky... made you all sticky. I'll bring you a wet washcloth." Michael kept darting his eyes from the penetrating hazel ones.

"Michael, you don't have to hide from me."

"I can't--I can't help it." Michael shook his head, trying to look above, eyes to the ceiling. He felt tears building. "I--I just feel things and I need to feel them in the moment."

"Awww... Mikey..." Brian moved up, hovering over Michael's face, making him look up at him. "I'm not--this isn't icky to me. What you did wasn't bad or wrong." He rubbed the back of his hand down a cheek. "Actually, I'd like to know if I can borrow that sensual imagination of yours. _What the fuck had you so hot and bothered?_ " He sounded like he was honestly interested.

"It was... uh... _you_."

Brian looked bewildered for a minute. " _Me? Wow... really? What did I do?_ "

"… nuthin'..." Michael mumbled, rubbing his nose.

Brian rolled his eyes. "Michael, 'nothing' doesn't make you ejaculate like Mount Saint Mikey all over you and my thigh."

Michael bit his top lip, feeling Brian's cock pressing against him. _God..._ if only they could. He closed his thighs, but that squeezed Brian's thigh too. _Crap._ "It's a, uh... _newer_ fantasy of mine."

"You have a collection?"

"You say it like they're out on DVD." Michael was beginning to feel his shamed emotions quell.

"I'd buy them if they gave me good tips on how to make you cum like that again."

"Brian!" Michael swatted Brian, his belly chuckle prominent.

" _What?_ Okay... yes, I _am_ vain. I _am_ jealous of myself. I could have much worse problems."

Michael closed his eyes, sighing. "I knew you'd tease me. You'll never be curious enough to care."

"Uh... I do care. If I could have you falling apart like that in my arms every night, every time we have sex..." Brian really didn't know what to say here. "... words cannot express how happy I would be. Not to mention how pleasured you'd be."

"This is not the conversation I want to be having with you in this bed this morning when we can't do anything about it."

" _You_ just did _something_."

Michael thought about how honest he should be, but he knew Brian wouldn't let it die, if he didn't at least start to say the truth. "The other night, while laying in bed... I was watching you like I always do..."

Brian realized too late Michael didn't want to miss a thing about his fantasy, even the tad boring bits. "You always watch me. Is this a long build up?"

" _Will you let me speak?!_ "

"Okay... okay... simmer down." Brian then proceeded to pretend like he was going to lay his head on Michael's pillow. "Wake me when you get to the good parts."

Michael gave him one of his "looks", telling him to pay attention or else. " _Am I boring you?_ "

"No. Not in the least." Brian perked right up.

"Then... Shut.Up."

Brian did so, smirking. He had been difficult long enough to distract Michael from his tears. He would let Michael speak about anything now.

"Anyway... watching you -- you were only in your PJ bottoms and I've always liked the way these ones hug your perfect ass... so I'm looking and I'm thinking... I'm going out of my mind. I touch your ass all the time, during sex and I wondered, 'what would it look like if I--?'--" Suddenly Michael realized what he was about to say and stopped.

" _If?_ C'mon...” Brian went back to hovering over Michael's face. “... don't let me hang. Gotta be more." He brought his hands up, from leaning on his forearms, and gave his undivided attention to Michael's face. Fingertips brushed and traced, they were followed closely by lips and a tongue.

Michael discovered he could speak if Brian was looking elsewhere. He stared at Brian and began to finish his response. "I wondered -- if our positions were reversed -- _switched_ \-- what would it be like? The look... the feel of taking you from behind." He left his comment at that. He dipped up to kiss Brian, a patch of neck skin visible.

"Oh..." Brian paused in his care of Michael; his mouth took the shape of an "O". Well... he had his answer. " _That's what got you off? Your new fantasy?_ " He seemed like he was earnestly thoughtful. " _Have all your fantasies come true?_ "

Michael nodded his head, before he actually spoke. "Yes." His fingers reached up to play with Brian's sideburns, feathering them out. "So far." His biggest one being Brian... here in his bed, forever.

"Damn..." Brian bowed his head, hitting Michael's pillow over his shoulder.

" _See!_ " Michael tried to push Brian away, but he wouldn't budge or couldn't. They were still interlocked. "I knew you'd brush it off. Or laugh at me."

Brian was chuckling. "I'm not, Mikey, I swear." He knew if he didn't speak soon he might get a pillow in his face. "Look... I'd be--I'd think--" He was trying to dodge Michael's hands from picking up the other pillow. "No... don't..."

"Brian."

"Michael... _will you listen to me?!_ " Brian didn't want to be rough and grab Michael's wrists, so he simply kept his biceps down, which prevented the arms from wildly swinging for ammo.

Michel stopped moving. "Okay... I'm already embarrassed. Whatever you say can't hurt me more." He lay down as if to take undo pain to his body, martyring himself on the bed.

"Oh... you are so cute when you do that." Brian snickered, loving the feel of Michael under him. "You need to get ready for work soon." He looked to the digital clock. He sighed, staring straight down at Michael. "Tonight." He nodded his head as if making an agreed decision.

" _What?_ " Michael looked up in confusion.

"I'm back on my Babylon shift."

"Brian, it's still..." Michael was now attentive to Brian, placing a tender hand on his chest, checking out the disappearing lump on Brian's temple. It was still covered with a light bandage, but that was just Brian being Brian. Not wanting to mar his face any, plus... bandages got you _sympathy_.

" _No!_ Our three days are _officially_ done later on tonight. So... let's do it. Let's plan this as our Babylon night."

"Okay. Agreed." Michael looked a little pensive. "Why am I getting the feeling you have something more to say?"

"Because I do." Brian smiled, then winked. "Ted and Blake are already taking Jenny until Saturday afternoon. All we do is get someone to watch Gus for a few hours, until he goes to bed. Then we come back home to our bedroom -- _this bed... right here..._ " He patted the mattress. He could see the dawning on Michael's face. " _What? What's wrong?_ "

"You're not---you... _no_. You _couldn't_ be." Michael forcefully sat up against the headboard, bringing Brian with him, but now he was laying in his lap. "Brian..." His palm caressed the cheek and jawline. "... you really wanna _try_ tonight? After Babylon?"

Brian secretly smiled, laying his cheek on Michael's belly. His arms came around the thin waist. His silent nod against Michael's body his answer. He had to admit he had thought about asking Michael one day, but afraid he would never take that kind of strange step out of their sexual realm. Brian feared he could be looked at as if he was a freak. But now to know Michael had thought the same scenario out -- _being the Top instead of his usual Bottom position_ \-- Brian was astounded to no end.

Michael was breathless, and quite speechless. Brian would do this, for him? Simply overwhelming what this man would do. Even to fulfill a stupid fantasy. He sunk lower, sliding back under Brian, the sweetness of his kisses and caresses indicative of his quiet acceptance of Brian's response. "Let's stay in bed a little longer... I'll open the store later..."

"Okay." Brian nodded his head, oddly shy, but his eyes intent on Michael's. "Thank you."

"Why?"

"For constantly being honest with me." Brian meant it for the way in which Michael allowed his body to fly freely in his keep. "I'd do anything for you... _you know that_?"

Michael nodded his head, tears building up again. And Brian, happily, kissed them away.

~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~  
 **Kitchen - Same Friday Morning**  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Michael?"

"Hmmm..."

"Look at me."

Brian's voice alone should have been what called him back, out of a daydream state. Nothing was appearing to work, except for... Maybe he should...

Brian sidled up behind Michael at the sink. He rubbed the shoulders, giving a little body shake. Realizing he would have to go further, the hands sloped down Michael's back, coming around to hug the motionless frame. Brian placed one palm on Michael's abdomen, soothing an easy caress. He relaxed his chin on Michael's shoulder as he stared, one-eyed, toward whatever Michael was interested in, off in the distance. When he saw nothing spectacular, Brian knew Michael was somewhere lost in his mind. Having an idea _he_ was causing Michael to stare into space was both thrilling and scary. He hoped Michael got rid of this affliction once he showed to work at the store. "Mikey... this doesn't bode well for being a good employer. What's the sense in having a store filled with employees if all you keep doing is closing?"

Michael gulped, turning in Brian's embrace. His stainless steel travel mug, sudsy and clean, dripping water on the floor and on Brian's shoes and jeans. "Oooo... sorry, sweetie." He shifted to get a towel, handing the material to Brian. Michael set his mug in the sink.

"Water. That's all. No biggie." Brian kept the towel, never bothering to wipe away the wetness. His hands clenched the sink ledge, his arms on either side of Michael's body. Brian could see the frazzled mind churning, see the dark eyes focus and un-focus, words attempting to pass through Michael's open mouth, but no sound came. "Tell me..." Brian softly coaxed forward.

"Just..." Michael shrugged, bringing his eyes to Brian's face. He hadn't shaved... _god damn him_. In fact, Brian was dressed in the _other_ sexy manner he had perfected. Simple, really... well-worn jeans, expensive and bought tattered... white, ribbed wife-beater under a soft suede camel-colored button-down shirt. The shirt was left open to reveal the t-shirt's cotton; the t-shirt hem wasn't tucked in, bunched around the thin waistline. Michael grabbed the front two belt loops, dragging Brian toward his leaning form. "... you..." He breathed out one word against open lips, his tongue tasting minty teeth and, soon, warm tongue.

Brian tightly clenched the sink ledge, knowing if he touched Michael he would make a tired-ass plea for himself that Michael should stay home, close the store. There was too much to do, responsibilities to stick to and obligations to fulfill. "I was prepared to be the Big Baddie this morning." He shook his head at the power Michael had over him sometimes. "How is it possible you can make me melt, yet... feel as strong as steel?"

Michael brought up his hands, wiggling them beside his head. "Magic!"

"Hmm... I don't usually like magic. Illusions are kinda cheesy mind-trick bullshit, but _yours_... _yours I like very much_."

Michael tilted his head in awe, palm out to massage Brian's stubble. The feel under his hand was sensational. "Sometimes I _want_ people to _see what I see_ , when I look at you. _Feel what I feel_ , when you look at me... or touch me. I've always needed them to realize how compassionate and gracious you really are."

Brian nudged the hand in quiet tolerance. "Flattered, but I like my audience of one, thank you." He could feel the flush on his skin grow. He picked up the travel mug from the sink, drying it off with the towel in his hand. He sauntered over to the coffee pot where a new batch was finishing brewing.

Michael hid his hands behind his back, liking when Brian's bashful side came out. The little boy who needed acceptance and love, wearing his heart on his sleeve. "But then I--I get freakishly possessive and think, 'fuck 'em'. That they never wanted you and you're all mine now."

"Michael..." Brian chuckled, shaking his head. The coffee percolating ended, so he turned to pour out the steaming liquid in the steel cylinder. "You like me for my coffee skills and you know it."

"Brian, _not_ fulfilling a random fantasy of mine won't change my feelings for you." Michael took his time, feeling the room, sensing when he could approach Brian. Brian was keeping safe, avoiding eye contact and standing with his back turned. So Michael did as usual, filled the silence with his Brian and Michael Show "stories". "When I first saw you, at fourteen, I thought you _hated_ me. You sure gave me cross-vibes. You kept being my friend, yet -- _I dunno_ \-- you were distant. When my crush-worthy lust renewed into love, I realized I wasn't sure I could _ever_ love anyone else." He saw the shoulders move, like in a soft sigh. "In fact, whenever you'd fall asleep in my arms -- _slowly opening up to me, telling me things; what was inside you even if it was fucked up and crazy_ \-- you allowed me to 'see' you. _The Real Brian._ And I discovered I wasn't scared, I wasn't turned off. I, uh, kind of wanted more. That's when I drifted off in my head, as you dreamed in my arms. When I knew exactly what was going on, right in front of me." Michael was closer than he had been, standing behind Brian, slightly to the right, like he was trying to peek beyond his shoulder.

Brian shivered slightly, closing his eyes. "It's three sugars, two creamers, right? I can get the quantities assbackwards sometimes." He lightly laughed at his own "elder" forgetfulness. He reached for a spoon to stir. His emotions were heightened, sentimentality unbalanced.

All Michael did was take one step near, he shadowed Brian's right side. "... that's when I knew you were born for me." Brian faltered, wiping his thumb under an eye, one at a time. "I know it's a little jolting to hear this early in the day, but after years of hearing it screamed at you -- _that no one really wanted you, no one wanted you to make it, even being born ; that you were, possibly, a mistake..._ " Michael made himself choke, not sure he could say the rest without holding Brian. He was trying to be kind, watching Brian suffer in quiet torture, but giving him space. He was right behind Brian. All Brian had to do was turn around and Michael would be right where he had always been. "I think, frankly, that's pretty shitty to do to an innocent child. And I, uh... tend to differ with those people who can't even give you one thread of a chance to make it right. I know you've made your mistakes, but those can easily be forgiven. I just don't know exactly where I'd be right now if I didn't have you--"

"Shut up." Brian finally turned, his arms diving in, holding onto Michael as tight, and as close as he could. " _… shutupshutupshutupshutup..._ " He nearly lifted Michael off his feet, clamping him to his chest. His fist bunched on Michael's back. His silent sobs sunken into Michael's neck and collar. He nuzzled his safety net, inhaling the scent to make it through the day. _His Michael... His Mikey... His..._ so beautiful and awesome in his love and loving him. Michael practically emitted light from his features, shining down on Brian's darkness. He settled down, coughing and sputtering, wiping his sleeves on his face. He pushed Michael away, light in his roughness. " _Would you get the fuck out of here already?!_ " His fingers snagged on the cuff of a sleeve, around Michael's wrist. He turned around to screw the lid on Michael's travel mug.

Michael smirked, reaching out to keep a hand on Brian's puffy cheek. "I love you, too." His hand lightly brushed over the bandage on Brian's temple, sending it healing vibes. “I can't seem to stop.” He quietly wished for someone to watch over _his guy_ until he could take over tonight.

Brian shoved the cup in the middle of Michael's chest. He backed up, having to weakly lean on the kitchen counter. "I won't make you stop, either. So... keep up the good work. I may just impress someone else besides you and Jenny."

"I won't hold you to that promise. I'm satisfied here at home." Michael made a quiet enunciation of "with you", pointing his finger toward Brian.

Brian bit his top lip. "Yeah... me, too." Even looking at Michael, backing away from him to head out the door, was heart-wrenching. The last thing Michael did was make the hand gesture for "call me" with his pinky and thumb, and he was on his way out the door, toward his car parked behind Brian's car.

Brian nodded his head, not saying one more word. He waited for the close of the front door and then he buried his face in his hands, crying residual tears. Leftover sorrow, but then there were happier tears. He noticed he still had the kitchen towel handy and wiped his face.

Jenny would come down soon and they would start their morning jaunt and fill their afternoon together until Brian dropped her off to stay with Ted and Blake. His motivation after that would be to bring his son home.

_Home?_ Yeah, he was growing to like that word more and more, every day he was with Michael. He even found himself having to wipe under his chin, tears having escaped unchecked. So different than the sad ones of his youth of never understanding what he could have done to be hated so damn much. Relief overcame him of being loved and discovering the many ways in which he was lovable. 

So, so different... _thanks to Michael_. Yeah, Brian knew exactly what he would do to show his love and thankfulness for Michael in his life. He wished the evening arrived here faster, instead of actually having to function through the real twenty-four hours of the day. Much, much quicker in a time machine, even sleeping the day away until evening hours. He found himself chuckling. The more he was sharing his mind with Michael, the more he realized his own imagination flourished.

And that's how Jenny found Brian... _content and happy in the kitchen_. She smiled broadly while making her way down the last steps toward the noises Brian was making in the kitchen. He must have heard her plop down on the hardwood floor after the last step on the stairs.

"Cereal? Toast? Waffles? What's your tastes this morning, Lady Jenny?" Brian was busy, getting out a bowl, a small plate... ready to venture toward the fridge to know what Jenny might want for breakfast. But when he swiveled he found his body blocked as tiny arms raised up to him. "What?"

"… I miss'd my mornin' hug an' kiss..."

"Well... we can't have royalty wasting away without their daily dose of nuzzling." Brian hefted Jenny in his arms, high enough where she was level with his face. "Mornin' darlin'." He drawled as he hugged her close, pressing a series of kisses to her face.

Jenny wrapped both arms about Brian's neck, squeezing tighter than she should. When she heard Brian gag, she giggled. She rested her head on Brian's shoulder, letting him move about the linoleum with her in his arms. "… did I miss Daddy leavin'?"

"Yup. If you want, we can swing by the store and tell him 'g'bye', before you go see Ted and Blake." Brian wished she would agree, but it seemed like a lot for an already full day.

"… nope... imma be okay... we talk'd when I woke up." Jenny lifted her head, grabbing for her favorite cereal box within her reach. She shook the box, like her father, checking to make sure there was stuff still in it. "… this one'll be all right." She handed it to Brian to pour out. "… wuz Daddy okay?" She only asked because her father seemed distracted, even though he talked to her.

"Yeah... he's fine. He's just..." Brian stuttered, because he almost forgot how old Jenny was. Some days being the only person to talk to, she was the easiest person to listen, and halfway converse with. "... uh, worried about the new employee interviews."

"… oh, oh-kay..." Jenny didn't say anything else. "… you oh-kay?" She rubbed his back, soothingly.

Brian lifted an eyebrow. "I suppose. I've been better. But... I can't complain. Well, I could, but it would be useless, a bit silly." He shook his head at whining about missing Michael already. It was nice to have Jenny around to fill those empty spaces and stop the quiet from strangling him.

"… what're we doin' today?" Jenny sounded excited. It had been awhile since it had been just her and Brian spending the day together.

"Anything you want, Lady Jenny. Anything."

" _Really?_ "

"No... you can't drive my car." Brian braced himself for that telltale Novotny swat. Once it landed on him, he leaned over to peck Jenny's chin and cheek and felt balanced, for once. Knowing exactly where he wanted to be and where he belonged.

Kind of like slamming on the brakes of Life, full stop.

~~&&~~&&~~&&~~&&~~  
 **Park/Playground - Mid-Morning Friday**  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"… here... here's good."

"No. No, I don't think so."

"… why not?"

"Because... we're, like, in the middle of everything. If _we_ can see _people_ , then _people_ can see _us_. What we want is _that_ bench."

"… _that one?_ "

"Yes. _That one_."

"… where?... the one there, near cars?... under the tree?"

"It's cozy."

"… i's too far from ev'rythin'... an'... I can't see the swings."

"Wouldn't you rather _be_ swinging than watching others swing?"

"… nope... I don' know anybody..."

"Neither do I, but I would go swing. If you wanted."

"… why you wanna swing?"

“Because... it's good to get out. See the world. Get some fresh air. Meet people. Make new friends. I should start bringing you here more often. Make this like a regular 'thing' for us..."

"… can we sit here?"

"Well, I suppose, since the other bench is so very, _very_ far away."

"… I can sit there, if you wan' me to..."

"Nah, here's okay. I'll suffer for you."

"… thank you."

"Your welcome. _Wha--? What are you doing?_ I could have helped you up here to sit."

"… I can do stuff on my own."

"But a bench is for _sitting_ , not _standing_."

"… I like standin'... I wanna see ev'rythin'... why you wearin' glasses?”

"Sunglasses." 

"… huh?"

"They're SUN-glasses. They're dark to block out the s-u-n."

"… I don' see no s-u-n."

"Ah-ha... wait until you learn about UV-rays."

"... huh?"

"Never mind."

"… lookie... over there..."

"Where?"

"… the see-saw... the pretty lady wit' her baby?"

"Do I _have_ to?"

"… uhm, she likes you."

" _She does not_."

"… uh-huh... she look'd when we got here."

"And I won't look, because--?"

"... you love Daddy."

"Exactly, but also because... she's _not_ really _my type_."

"… wha'sa 'type'?"

"She's a girl."

"… yur funny... imma girl."

"But I don't _like you--_ _ **like you**_ like I like your father. I love you, but I wouldn't want to marry you."

"… why?"

"Well... you're a girl and your four... and, pardon me, but... _ewww_..."

"… _hehehehehe_... you make me laff."

"You make me happy."

"... thank you... oh, lookie..."

"What now?"

"… a little boy an' girl, by the swings... an'--"

" _What?_ "

"… take off yur s-u-nglasses an' you can see."

"I don't see what you're--"

"… there... the man... wit' the little boy an' girl..."

"Yeah, _what about him_?"

"... he likes you too."

"Well... why don't you stop staring at them, pointing all willy-nilly, and they won't think you're trying to scope out prospects for me."

"... but 'm jus'--"

"Stop it."

"… why?"

"It's rude."

"… he look'd first... an' he don' look like he's gonna stop."

"Well... not if you keep staring."

"… but 'm four... he's oldur than me... right?"

"And they should know better, yes... I agree, but not everyone older than you is a _mature adult_."

Jenny sighed, plopping down on the bench seat beside Brian. " _ **Everyone**_ is older than me." She grumbled out as she slid her tiny satchel to her front, placing it on her lap. The strap was criss-crossed over her chest.

Brian leaned over to rub a finger over Jenny's puffed out cheek. "You'll soon reach an age where you'd wish for those days back."

Reaching inside one of her satchel's pockets, Jenny drew out a small notepad and a sharpened Number #2 pencil. Barbie, of course, adorned the eraser top. In her childlike scribble, she assimilated writing as if she were taking dictation. She slowly mouthed-out the words and scribbled them as she heard the sounds in her head.

Brian sat up, moving to relax in the corner. He looked over at Jenny, wondering what she might be doing. " _Wha--? What's that?_ "

Jenny didn't look up, using her lap as a desk. "... my no'book."

Brian thought he missed a word or two. "Your _what_?'

"… I take no'es... my no'book... words I hear." Jenny tapped on an ear Brian could see.

"Who taught you how to write?"

Jenny looked up, thinking. Right now her father was, but before... uhm... "… no one." She didn't know if she should tell Brian she had learned on her own. "… othur four-year-olds don' 'rite like me?"

"Uh... they're too busy picking their noses, running with scissors and eating paste and construction paper. So... I have to say a resounding N-O." Brian paused, taking his sunglasses off finally, folding them and hooking them on his t-shirt collar. "Then again, I don't hang out with most four-year-olds."

Jenny looked over at him as if to say, _**"who am I? chopped liver?".**_

"Well... I didn't used to." Brian patted her shoulder weakly. "You should feel honored being in my rare company."

Jenny sat back, sighing. "… am I bad for 'ritin'?"

"No. Depends what you're writing." Brian realized he might be offending Jenny, so he tried to make her feel better. " _What are you writing?_ "

"… words."

"Yeah, I got that. _What kind of words?_ "

"… stuff I hear... words lotsa people said to me... words Daddy, Gran' ma an' you said too..."

" _Me?!?_ " Brian choked out, patting his chest. "Jen... _nonono_... your father would kill me, if he knew you thought anything I said was brilliant or worthy of posterity." He swallowed, but then he wondered something. "You didn't write down any of the times I said swear words, did you?"

Jenny shook her head, her brow wrinkled in deep thought. "… I don' know those words."

"Oh... _whew_..." Brian pretended to fan himself. He liked hearing Jenny giggle. "You scared me there, Lady Jenny."

"… I don' know 'em, but I don' know all words." Jenny folded back a page, holding out her no'book. "... wanna see?"

"Oh, sweetie... no... I..." Brian put out a hand to ward off the toss. He wasn't sure she didn't have a bunch of "juicy" thoughts floating on those pages, like in a diary or journal. But she kept insisting, so he took it. When Brian glanced down, through Jenny's scribbling, there he saw... _his words_ looking up at him.  
 **  
"... I WIL REECH N AYG WARE I WISH 4 THOZ DAYZ AGAYN..."**

_Good God! What other incriminating evidence did Jenny have on him?_

Brian curiously flipped two pages back, perusing everything written. She was very thorough and clear. All in capital letters and she left spaces around each word or sentence to make sure she had written them correctly. When he began at the top of one page, Brian discovered _another_ shocker. Jenny must have tried _very_ hard to remember the words once they had come home from taking Brian to the Emergency Room. He could decipher three words describing his past medical history Jenny had overheard.

 **CANSIR ... RAYDEEAYSHUN ...** ** and ** **KEEMO ...**

Jenny had attempted a fourth word, but its pronunciation went over her head, so she stopped at a certain point...

 **TESTEEK...**

Brian snickered, a bit of shame on his face. Jenny had enunciated and spelled out "testicular" as best she could, but gave up. He was in awe; he didn't know what to do or say next. To know that Jenny had been so concerned with his welfare and health that she had attempted to write down some stupid words moved him beyond an ability to vocalize his own feelings. They touched his heart more than anything she could have done. Brian and Michael were sure she wasn't totally assured of things being all right, or “fine”, because the doctor had made such a bigger deal about Brian hitting his head. And this... **cansir** /cancer... had something to do with it. And she was willing to learn.

Jenny could very well be a budding genius. She continued to astound Brian with her willingness to absorb everything around her.

"Can I--can I show you--?" Brian reached around to bring Jenny closer. He put out a hand for Jenny's pencil, which she gave him.

"… yeah... please." Jenny bit her thumb, like Brian. She leaned against his chest, looking down at her no'book in his lap as he wrote with her pencil in the spaces she had left.

Brian was beginning to show Jenny how to correctly spell each word, giving her a smidge of an explanation and an example she could comprehend without confusion. But he wasn't touching that last word. No... not until Jenny was twenty-one and, of course, still a virgin.

**~~TBC...**


End file.
